Under The White
by imagine.believe
Summary: "Our work is all about confidentiality. Secrets." On her first day as an Attending Internist in Oakbrook General Hospital, Reine Kreiss is confronted by her sister, Gwen. A disagreement between them has torn the sisters apart. Now, Reine has secrets under her white coat, and Gwen knows about it. But neither of them knows that Reine is not the only one who has something to hide...
1. Initiation

_Hey, imaginebelieve here! So this is the start of my new story! Hope you enjoy it! ^^_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harvest Moon._

* * *

She walked calmly through the sliding glass door, the sound of her heels against the pristine floor creating a steady, confident rhythm as she held her black handbag in her left hand. She walked to the front office, "Where is the Internal Medicine Department?"

"It's on the second floor, on your right."

She smiled appreciatively. "Thank you."

She took the lift and followed the direction, and soon she found herself standing before the department in which she had been transferred to. She walked in and went straight to the Chief's office.

The Chief was a man already in his fifties, with greying hair but dark eyebrows and a stocky build. "You must be Dr Kreiss," he said with a stiff smile. "Welcome to Oakbrook General."

She shook his hand, "Thank you, Chief."

"You come at the most fortunate time, I must say."

"Why?"

"This afternoon, there would be a lunch party together with the Surgery Department." The Chief said, "This hospital protocol dictates the surgeon to work closely with an internist for their pre-op and post-op treatments, to allow them to concentrate more to the surgery."

The Chief then handed over her new ID and scrubs, and told her where her locker would be. She immediately changed her suit into scrubs and her heels into more comfortable track shoes. She slung the new ID card over her neck and finally wore her new white coat bearing the insignia of Oakbrook General Hospital. As a final touch, she set her hair into a bun using a pencil, an old habit of hers.

_It begins now…_ she told herself.

* * *

It was easy to tell whether someone was an attending, resident, or intern through the shade of his or her scrubs—with intern usually wearing brighter shade than their seniors. The base colour of the scrubs was also used to identify one's department. Surgery, arguably the top-notch department, wore purple in colour—the colour of royalty. Internal Medicine was granted the colour green, a more earthbound colour. Reine Kreiss found the arrangement to be funny, since she had thought that green—the complement colour of red—would be more suitable for surgeons.

The lunch party then was a mixture between shades of purple and green. Reine landed a few quick conversations with her new colleagues, and her vibrant and apparent openness really worked in her favour. Soon, she learned things like who was shagging whom, or who was whose nemesis.

"Dr Kreiss, I've been wondering," one of her colleagues asked, "Are you, by any chance, related to Dr Guinevere Kreiss?"

"Oh—"

"Speaking of the devil," another whispered while staring at a particular direction.

Reine turned to the same direction to find a woman in dark purple scrub under her white coat, her hair dark brown and softly curled, cascading to her mid back. Just like her, her face was oval and her skin was rather fair with a pair of emerald green eyes with golden specks upon closer inspection. She was walking to her direction, and Reine smiled.

"Well, my pink hair makes me a good landmark, doesn't it?" she remarked half-jokingly.

"Did you dye it?"

"No, I got it from my mom." She said, "Pretty rare, huh?"

By then, Dr Guinevere Kreiss had reached the group of internists. "Can we talk?" she asked Reine.

"Sure, Gwen. Let's have a sisterly chat."

Reine muttered a quick goodbye to her new colleagues and followed the surgeon who in turn led her to the emergency staircase. Gwen locked the door behind them and crossed her arms, her face was nothing else but pissed off.

"What's the deal, Reine?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm working here, starting today." Reine replied. "Is that the way to greet your beloved younger sister?"

Gwen glared at Reine, her younger sister by three years. "You know what I'm asking here, Reine," she said, her voice cold and threatening. "What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

Reine shrugged, "No matter how many times you ask, my answer is still the same: working."

"Can you cut it off?" Gwen snapped. "What is a _federal agent_ doing in a hospital?"

Reine looked back at her elder sister, this time her gaze equally cold. "You know the deal, Gwen." She said, "Our work is all about confidentiality. Secrets."

"What the—"

"Now, if you excuse me,"

Reine gently pushed Gwen aside and unlocked the door. "I would really appreciate it, sister, if you remember that I, too, am an internist besides what you said me to be," she reminded gently, but grimly. "For your own sake."

With that, Reine Kreiss walked out from the emergency staircase, leaving behind her stunned elder sister.

* * *

_A federal agent in a hospital?_

_What's going on?_

_Thanks for reading! Rate and review, please? ^^_

**_A/N: how does this sound as a prologue? Although I'm just a high schooler, I'll try to make this story as accurate as possible. I'm a fan of Grey's Anatomy, and although many of the scene MIGHT be inspired by Grey's episode, I will try not to plagiarise or anything. I don't own Grey's, of course, but I admire Shonda Rhimes a lot!_**

**_For those who are familiar with Gwen and Reine, yes, this time their relationship is a bit sour. And they're not twins either: Gwen is older than Reine by three years. ^^_**


	2. ER Rush

_Hey guys, yeah, as you can see Gwen and Reine are not really in the best of terms with each other, so this chapter would be a quick glance why..._

* * *

_"So here it is, your assignment."_

_Reine took the folder that was offered to her and flipped it open. "Oakbrook General?"_

_"Yes. There has long been a suspicion that someone in Oakbrook is involved in an organ trafficking ring."_

_"But it's a decently equipped hospital. They even have a Level 1 trauma centre, right?"_

_"That doesn't mean everyone there doesn't have the incentive to do so, my dear." Her boss replied with a smile. "In any case, you seem to be suitable to this task. Make good use of your medical degree."_

_"Well, I'd rather think FBI paid for my medical school tuition to prepare me for this mission."_

_"Bingo! As expected from you! But anyways, medical degree is handy. It helps you to gain trust in covert mission."_

_"I can't agree more." Reine nodded. "Helping is the first step to gain trust. And even when you're infiltrating enemy's base, medical profession gives you the edge."_

_"Smart girl."_

_Reine flipped through the information quickly. "So is this a solo mission?"_

_"You'll go there alone tomorrow,"_

_"You think too highly of me, Helena."_

_"Believe in yourself more, Special Agent Reine Kreiss. You have what it takes."_

* * *

With Helena's cheerful and reassuring voice echoing in her mind, Reine walked back to the party. Truth to be told, she didn't expect to meet Gwen here since they had never kept in touch since Reine accepted Helena's offer to be an agent. She remembered their second last conversation—if the earlier one in the emergency staircase was counted—nine years ago.

* * *

_"Are you crazy?!"_

_"Because I wanted to," she replied simply. "Well, I had no problem you rejecting the offer three years ago, then I think you shouldn't have any problem of me accepting it."_

_Gwen was horrified by her nonchalant reply. "Is it because they'll pay for your medical school tuition?"_

_"Do I seem to be that desperate? No, Gwen."_

_"Then why—?!"_

_"I believe Helena spoke to you about it as well, Gwen." Reine replied, "About Mom—"_

_"Fine. Whatever, Reine." Gwen interjected. "If you want to be some kind of a hero, do it. I don't care."_

_That night, Reine packed her bag and left their family house. And she never looked back._

* * *

The first three years, Reine still sent Gwen cards for Easters, birthdays, Thanksgivings and Christmases. There never was a reply from her elder sister, but the last blow came on the fourth year when her Easter card was returned since Gwen had moved out from the house.

Reine tried to call her phone, but the service was cut off. And that was the end of any semblance of communication between them. So, she really didn't expect to find Gwen in this hospital.

Her primary suspect would be the Surgery Department—the department with the greatest access, and need, for organs. That meant Gwen would be included in the suspect list.

"Are you the new internist?" a voice asked.

Reine raised her head and found a surgeon with dark red hair and icy blue eyes, framed with rectangular spectacles with rounded edges. He smiled at her in a friendly, if not slightly flirtatious smile. "Hey, you look a lot like Gwen. Almost like twins, if not for your hair."

_He called her… Gwen? Must be a close friend of hers._

"I'm her sister." Reine replied quickly.

The surgeon smiled and put a sassy hand on his hip. "Allen Rosencrantz. Feel free to consult me if you think your bust needs a bit of inflation, or your butt for that matter."

"Uh, no, thanks. I'm quite satisfied with my size."

Allen laughed before he put a hand on his chin like the Thinker position. "Come to think of it, you have a good proportion." He said, smirking, "Be glad, I just complimented you."

Reine raised her eyebrow, "Frankly, I don't care. But thanks anyway."

"Drinks after work? There's a good place nearby."

"No, thanks." Reine replied flatly.

Soon, another surgeon approached them and he smiled at Reine. "I heard there's another Kreiss here." He said, "Hey, I'm Mark! And you look a _lot_ like Guinevere!"

"Reine Kreiss," Reine introduced herself with a smile. "Words spread like disease here, huh?"

"Well, Guinevere never said anything about having a sister, so you created quite a buzz." Mark replied, "And she's one helluva of a peds!"

Reine indeed noticed that Gwen's tag earlier identified her department as Pediatric Surgery. "Oh, really?"

"Yup! One of the best!"

Reine managed to smile. "I see…"

"You're an internist, right? I hope to work with you soon!" Mark said cheerfully. "I'm a general surgeon, by the way."

Suddenly, the three of them felt something was vibrating in their pockets—their pagers. They took it out at the same time and their eyes widened before they made a mad dash to the ER on the first level.

"ER never rests, huh?" Mark managed to joke.

"If _he_ decided to page, this must be a storm."

When they reached the ER, it was already flooded with staff and waves of patients. The doctors there were mostly interns and residents since most of the attending surgeons or physicians were at the lunch party.

"What happened?" Mark asked, pulling one of the interns.

"Food poisoning in an elementary school, a car crash, and a barbeque grill exploded during backyard camp."

"Dahell…" Mark muttered. He then turned at the nurse who was behind the desk, "Postpone all afternoon elective surgeries scheduled today to evening. We'll have a marathon."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I love burns. It fires me up." Allen remarked sarcastically as he took a pair of latex gloves and put them on.

Meanwhile, Reine ran over to the non-surgical section of the ER. She could hear the moaning and groaning through the curtains that acted as a separator between beds; she even heard someone vomiting. She ran to a nurse nearby. "Let me see the charts."

She was soon given five different charts which she immediately skimmed through. "Any more coming?" she asked while reading the second chart.

"Yes, they're on their way."

Reine looked across the room. "Okay, we'll deal with this precise and presto."

* * *

It was crazy. As soon as one person could be moved up to a room, another came in. Sometimes, _two_ people came up when they had just transferred one. Twenty minutes into the 'race', two more internists came to help, so it wasn't as bad, but Reine did most of the work, running between beds and doing the preliminary checks before she cleared them for a transfer with a treatment plan that she quickly jot down on the chart.

Finally, after what she counted as her thirteenth patient that she cleared for a transfer, the inflows stopped and she could take a breather. "No more charts?" she asked the nurse, just to make sure.

"No, doc. Thanks for the hard work." The nurse replied with a smile. "You were amazing! You treated the most patient and with such precise instructions."

"That was nothing."

Reine then walked to an empty corner of the ER and sat on the floor while leaning her head against the wall. She had learned early in her life that she couldn't ever forget what she had seen, no matter how brief it had been. Since erasing the memories were impossible, she learned to put her thoughts in 'boxes' in her head and close the boxes for future reference—if she ever needed it again. She closed her eyes as she began to put her newest memories into these boxes when she suddenly heard someone calling out, "Prepare Trauma Room 1!"

Then the sound of gurney rolling on the floor followed. Reine opened her eyes and noticed a new face—a surgeon not present in the earlier lunch.

His messy golden blond hair was a bit drenched with perspiration as he ran down the ER with the gurney. And from where she sat down, she could see a pair of sharp violet eyes that exuded a weight of confidence and conviction.

She rose and walked to Trauma Room 1 and peeked through the window.

It was a bloody scene—many scenes in trauma rooms were, anyway. And it was chaotic with many panicking interns and an even madder race against the clock if the patient was not breathing upon arrival.

This time, the patient was bleeding near his abdomen, and he was already flat-lining. "Prepare a defibrillator!"

She then saw him reaching for a needle—probably size 13 or 14—as well as thread. As she was facing his back, she couldn't actually see him suturing, but she could see his hand came up in an interval of a second or so and he managed to stitch the 5 cm wound in less than eight seconds.

_What the—_

"Pretty cool, huh?"

Reine turned around and saw Mark was standing over him. "Neil Forrester, our Head of Trauma. The interns call him O'Scary."

"Huh?"

Suddenly, Mark pulled her aside and soon, the patient was being wheeled out. "Prepare OR 1 and page someone from cardio!" Neil commanded. It seemed to Reine that the man didn't even notice her presence. Not that she cared.

"That was close." Reine said, "Thanks, Mark."

Mark laughed, "No problem! Anyway, yeah, that's Neil for you. He wouldn't stop if you're in his way. Most probably he'll shout at you to 'get outta my way' and chew you inside out. He scares the hell out of many people."

"Can feel that." Reine replied. "You don't have any surgery?"

"Oh, nothing interesting. I leave that up to the residents." Mark grinned. "Perks of being in general surgery: you have the most number of residents to throw your load to."

They laughed together for a moment before Mark said, "I heard the nurses were singing praises for you. Congrats for your first day."

"That was nothing," Reine replied. "I just did what I could, really."

"Hey, but treating thirteen food poisoning patients in two hours were spectacular!" Mark insisted. "Let me treat you for a drink after your shift!"

This was the second time someone asked her for drinks. "No, it's okay."

"Coffee at the cafeteria?" he insisted.

Reine sighed. Maybe it wasn't so bad; the closer she was to the Surgery Department, the easier would be for her to gather the info about this organ trafficking thing. "Just coffee, okay?"

Mark grinned. "Sure thing! Let's go!"

* * *

_And that's for her first day at work._

_Stay tuned for the next update!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	3. Sunny Shadow

_Thanks for keep reading, guys! ^^_

_SkylaDaFlyingPig: hahaha yeah, they change roles in each story because they are different Reines and Gwens :) in any case, I hope you will like this story! ^^_

* * *

The cafeteria was rather empty since it was an off-peak period. They took a table near the glass wall that gave them the view of the hospital park where patients and staff alike could take a leisurely stroll.

"What did you study in college?" Mark asked, smiling.

"Psychology," she said.

"That sounds cool!" Mark exclaimed. "Then, why doctor?"

Reine took a sip of her coffee. "I was inspired… by Gwen."

"Oh, Guinevere?" His face suddenly darkened. "Hey, can I ask you something more… personal?"

"Sure, shoot away."

"You don't seem to be so close with Guinevere." Mark said carefully. "Like… you guys aren't too far apart in terms of age, but… I don't know… she doesn't talk much, yes, but…"

Reine laughed. "I get what you mean," she said, "well, yeah we're not the closest sisters on earth. Things happened as we grew up."

"I see… I'm sorry."

Reine put down her coffee and stared right into his blue eyes. "Does my life story interest you so much?"

He grew flustered at her direct question. "Uh, you see—I think you're an interesting woman. You're awesome."

"Thanks, I'm flattered." She replied sincerely, "but flattery gets you nowhere with the kinds of me."

Mark grinned. "I know."

"Reine?"

Reine turned at the familiar voice and she found another blond man—this time gingerly blond. His bright aquamarine eyes lit up even more at the sight of the pinkette. "Rod!" Reine exclaimed as she rose from her seat and walked over to him. "Oh my God, it's you!"

Rod laughed and they gave each other a friendly hug. "I've never heard of you since graduation!" Rod said when they finally let go of each other. "So… doctor?"

"Well, yeah." Reine replied. "And you?"

"You know Rod?" Mark asked curiously as he went over to them as well.

"He's my friend from college." Reine explained. "Do you guys know each other?"

"Oh, he's our counsellor for the chronic illness patients and their families."

Reine glanced at Rod and smirked, "Sounds like you."

Rod simply laughed, "Well, I'm not as brainy as you, Reine. I'm doing what I can."

The pinkette smiled wryly, "Brainy? I'm not _that_ brainy myself. Gwen is much smarter than I am."

Suddenly, Reine felt her pager vibrating. Reine took it out, "Huh? The Chief wanted to see me. Gotta go now." She turned at Mark, "Thanks for the coffee!" and then she turned at Rod, "See you around, Rod!"

With that, Reine ran off from the cafeteria, leaving the two men behind.

"She's an interesting woman, huh?" Mark asked with a meaningful glance.

"She's like the sun." Rod said, "You can't help but gravitate around her."

* * *

"What's the matter, Chief?" Reine asked.

"Oh, I heard the hoo-ha in the ER." The Chief began, "Good job for your first day, Kreiss."

Reine shifted uneasily between her feet. "Uh, thanks, Chief."

"So… have you given any thought on your fellowship?"

"No. I'm quite content on being an internist for the time being."

The Chief nodded. "That's fine… but give a consideration to be an emergency physician."

"Well, that's…"

"I'm not asking you to decide right away of course. Just remember that this hospital is also a teaching hospital."

"Yes, Chief. Thank you very much."

"That's all, Kreiss. I'm expecting great things from you."

* * *

_"Your sister was a bright student. We're expecting great things from you, too."_

_"As expected from a Kreiss! You're just like your sister!"_

_"Well, I offered it to Guinevere, but she turned it down. How about you, Reine? Do you want to take up my offer?"_

_"She's one helluva of a peds!"_

Reine categorized these memories into one box in her head. A box she would label as "Shadow" if she ever got the chance to label all the boxes in her head.

It's hard, living with a sister so bright that you ended up being her shadow. People expected great things from you because you're her sister; you're defined by your sister. There was this line she had to cross, but every time she thought she had crossed it, it only turned out that the line had moved further and further away.

In the end she never even touched the line, much less crossing it.

Reine sighed heavily. She never told anyone, but Gwen was everything she wanted to be.

_No_, she corrected inwardly, _Gwen is everything I have to overcome._

Not paying much attention to where she was heading, Reine felt her shoulder hit someone. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

Reine looked up and she found the last person she wanted to see right now: Guinevere Kreiss.

Both sisters tensed at each other's sight. Reine, realizing that this was Internal Medicine Department, cleared her throat and asked, as professionally as she could: "Anything I can help you with, Dr Kreiss?"

"I'm looking for a paediatrician." She replied in a similar flat tone.

"All right, I won't be in your way, then."

Reine was about to continue walking when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around.

"Good job at the ER."

Reine smiled wryly. "Yeah, thanks."

* * *

_Despite Rod's remarks of Reine being the "sun",_

_apparently Reine thinks she is a mere "shadow"._

_What will happen next?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

**_A/N: Hey guys, I hope you don't mind the relatively slow pace because I want to set the background of each character, especially the two sisters with regards to how their relationship turns sour. I hope you still find it enjoyable ^^_**


	4. Dead and Dying

_Skyla: yep! And now I'll reveal Reine's full name as well! (don't laugh :p) as for your question... I am still thinking in terms of the plot development. It would be lovely if they make up to each other, but if that doesn't follow too nicely on the plot... that could be hard._

_teamBLAZE: thank you! ^^ I hope I'm not too far off the reality hahaha (although, like I said, I'm just a highschooler)_

* * *

He leaned back to his seat and faced the glass window of his penthouse that displayed the night view of this coastal seaport city powdered with glittering lights—undying artificial sparkles that seemed to serve as a mirror to the way of how this city never really slept. In a strange sort of way, he felt this city seemed to gain another kind of life once the sun set and the moon reigned in its place; not really a nocturnal city in that sense, more like a changeling. While it was bustling with energy and enthusiasm fueled by the sun in the day, the moon infused this city with a peculiarly alluring kind of mystique.

Now, he relished himself in this mystical, almost surreal charm of this city from his penthouse. Not the most favourite of his past time, but this would do for now.

A glass of martini—clouded instead of clear with a slice of lime instead of olives as garnish—rested on the desk nearby. He picked the glass up and twirled in once before taking a small sip as he used his other hand to hold his cell phone, listening intently to the woman on the other end of the line.

"She certainly seems to be the curious type." He said, "but curiosity killed the cat, and this FBI kitten may be not an exception."

He shifted his gaze from his drink to the glass window. His lips curved into a slight smile.

"Special Agent Renaissance Kreiss, huh?"

* * *

It's been two weeks since she moved and Reine found herself spending more and more time in the ER due to understaffing. This was considered to be rather unusual for an attending internist since the work in ER was rather different than a typical internist's; it required a certain kind of decisiveness and precision more akin to a surgeon and, more often than not, the patients would be transferred to another internist or respective sub-specialists, causing the lack of rapport that was usually present between the internist and the patient. Not many internists, especially attending, would take up the post in ER—however, the lack of a properly trained emergency physician caused the need of at least one attending internist to be present at the ER. As such, Reine—who didn't mind spending the time in ER—began to dedicate more and more portion of her shift to this first line of defence against anything that might invade the hospital.

Slowly, she began to make friends with the regular staff of the ER, such as Elli, the nurse-in-charge for ER. She would come across as a very gentle and soft-spoken young woman, but when the situation demanded for it, she was very quick to action and carried out the instructions given with military precision.

Besides Elli, she also began to grow closer to a surgery resident interested in the trauma surgery, Georgia Laughlin. At first, Reine was very much amused by Georgia's peculiar accent and spent two-thirds of their time conversing to figure out what it was that she wanted to say, but as they spent more and more time together Reine began to appreciate—and even admire—the tenaciousness present in this young woman. Reine was even able to get some information from the resident through their conversations, such as the schedules of the attending surgeons, their backgrounds (Georgia was well-informed of this, apparently), as well as the relationship between the surgeons.

"Dr Rosencrantz used to be so close to Dr Guinevere Kreiss, but suddenly they looked like they were nemesis and then he started to flirt with others. Including nurses."

_That explains why he calls her 'Gwen'._ She thought to herself.

Their conversation was cut short by a sudden notice of a new patient being wheeled in to the ER. He suffered head trauma from falling from third floor of his office (sometimes Reine wondered how some accidents happened after all the safety measures). Georgia sprung up, "Seems like I have to depart now! Farewell, Dr Kreiss!"

"Good luck!" Reine said, smiling.

Reine saw Neil Forrester rushed the patient to the Trauma Room, shooting instructions on the way. Despite the amount of time she had spent in the ER, she had never talked to the _de facto _leader in the ER. Every time a patient was transferred for a consult, she always obtained the chart from Elli—that gave her almost no reason to talk to him. As such, she couldn't really form an impression of him besides his apparent misanthropy.

_Maybe he is more used to be surrounded by dead and dying people,_ she once reasoned rather cynically out of her irk at his attitude.

Once the patient was moved from the Trauma Room to the OR, the ER was left with a few surgery interns who once asked her, _her_—an attending with a dark green scrub—whether it would be better to use ⅜ or ½ circle needle to suture a wound on the arm. In the end, thanks to her memory of her first intern year in surgery before switching to Internal Medicine, she was able to tell them which needle she would recommend, but still it was generally an unwise move to ask an internist such question.

In any case, she was the sole attending physician left, which meant she couldn't leave the ER even if she wanted to.

Reine then saw the unattended computer on the nurse's desk. An idea slipped her mind then; she should be able to access some data through it. When the interns were slacking at one corner of the ER, Reine quietly approached the computer and began to look through for the surgeons' shifts as well as personal data; the fact that the hospital used an integrated data system worked in her favour since she could access basically anything once she knew the proxy for the information she wanted.

Reine quickly connected her portable hard disk that she always carried with her inside her coat pocket to the PC and downloaded the data on the schedules of all surgeons as well as the personal data. Reine then decided that there was nothing wrong in compiling the data on the nurses in the department as well—better to be thorough rather than leaving blind spots. Reine tapped her finger on the table nervously as she waited for the data to be copied, trying to appear calm at the same time as well. Once the window showed that the data had been copied successfully, Reine immediately ejected her hard disk and put it back inside of her pocket.

_I'll work on this once I get back,_ she told herself.

"Where's the internist?!"

Reine turned around at the mention of 'internist' in a familiar, yet distant voice. It was the blond trauma surgeon. Reine put her hands into her coat pocket and walked calmly to him. "Yeah, anything you need?"

He handed her over a chart—that's a first—and said, "This patient is yours from now on."

Reine looked over the patient's profile. "Is he the one you operated just now?"

"Yeah."

"I know this hospital prescribes a surgeon to attach an internist to a post-op treatment plan, but aren't you supposed to follow this case through yourself?"

"I fixed him, alright? Now it's your job."

Reine winced at his remark. "You 'fix' him? Do you see him as human?"

"Got a problem with that term?" Neil asked, as if challenging her.

"Patients are human—including those you cut into on the table! You are performing an operation—not _fixing _them as if they were toasters!"

Neil crossed his arms. "In our lines of jobs, we can't get too attached, especially emotionally."

"That's wrong!" Reine exclaimed. "We doctors are helping living beings! Despite the professional distance we should keep, we should remember that we are dealing with humans who—like us—have lives and their own stories!"

Neil smirked. "Well, my job entails ensuring that my patient is not _dead_. They can be dying—in most cases, they will be—but they can't be _dead_. As long as they're not _dead_, I've done my job. Who cares about their life stories?" He said, "A surgeon deals with life and death while you internists have the luxury of maintaining the balance between living and dying for your patients."

Reine cringed at such a… gloomy perspective on surgeons and internists, although it wasn't entirely wrong as well.

"As long as all bleedings are stopped, wounds sutured and closed, and heart beating, I have no concern for anything else. That's already out from my job."

Reine's face was now red with a disbelief fury. She clenched her fist and glared at the man who stood unflinching before her like a chiselled statue. "You are unbelievable, Dr Forrester." She hissed, "Who… _what _are you?"

Still unmoved from his place, he replied enigmatically:

"I am who you believe me to be."

* * *

_An enigmatic reply from the trauma surgeon..._

_A rough start between the two doctors._

_Stay tuned for the next chapter!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	5. Understanding Her

_teamBLAZE: yeah, but I haven't watched that in forever hahaha I think I will picking up on Grey's this holiday, along with the Three Rivers. Thanks for the suggestion!_

* * *

Neil and Reine had no further conversation since their disagreement and the word soon spread around in the Oakbrook that the two present powers of the ER were in a disagreement with each other. Nevertheless, despite their apparent animosity towards each other, they worked relatively efficiently together since each gave the other an autonomy on how they wanted to approach the case—with a small note of the overview and the essential details of the procedure chosen on the chart being sufficient to update the relevant parties.

"You guys have a very weird kind of teamwork—but it works, so I guess it's okay." Chelsea said as they enjoyed their lunch break.

Chelsea Egan was an attending internist in Oakbrook General who had acted as a sort of mentor for Reine since her arrival. Being only one year older than Reine, they soon formed a solidifying friendship strengthened by grilled chicken sandwiches over the lunch break. While some internists seemed to envy Reine's quick popularity among the surgeons—whether it was because of her relation to Gwen or purely because of her competence—Chelsea didn't seem to be bothered at all by that.

Dr Egan was popular among the patients for her warm and exuberant personality, and she was willing to go the necessary extra miles for her patients. After her patient was discharged, she would sometimes called them just to check on them, especially if they had just been discharged for less than two weeks. In the ward—which could be depressing at times, especially among those who had been hospitalized for quite some time—Dr Chelsea Egan was the kind of promising hope that the patient would hold on to. This was the kind of doctor Reine aspired to be—instead of someone who only thought on a short-term basis.

"He's just unbelievable!" Reine complained as she took another bite of her sandwich. After she swallowed it, she took a sip of her coffee—added with two portions of milk and two sugar cubes—and continued, "Have you ever seen such a man?"

"Yeah," Chelsea replied lightly. "He goes by the name Neil Forrester."

Reine put a hand over her face and sighed long. "Gosh…"

"But you have to admit he's wonderful. As a surgeon." She reminded her, "You must have seen how fast he can work. And he's meticulous at the same time."

"I didn't deny that…" Reine groaned.

"You know his nickname?"

"O'Scary?"

"No—among his fellow trauma surgeons."

Reine shook her head.

"It's 'Hands of Asclepius'."

"What a lofty name." Reine snorted.

Chelsea chuckled. "It's befitting of him, he who revives those under his scalpel." She said, "but imagine the burden of such a moniker on him. You know the drill: with great power comes great responsibilities."

_As long as they're not dead, I've done my job._

_A surgeon deals with life and death…_

"Hands of Asclepius…" Reine mused. Suddenly, she jerked up as if she realized something, "Wait—why are you talking as if you want me to _like_ him?"

Chelsea grinned, "No, I didn't. But if you say so, you are starting to _like_ him now?"

"Well, no."

The brunette laughed. "In any case, I have to do my rounds now. Where are you going after this?"

"ER," Reine replied simply.

They finished the last bit of their sandwiches and coffees and parted ways with Chelsea going up to get her charts and Reine walking back to the ER.

When she reached the ER, she saw a small commotion in front of the trauma room in which a panicking woman screaming at the interns in a language that was clearly not English. Reine jogged to the commotion and asked one of the interns, "What happened?"

"Just now a girl was admitted into the ER and this woman is her mother." The intern explained, "but she doesn't speak English _at all_ and none of us know what language she is speaking now!"

While she was listening to the explanation, she could hear the woman practically screaming, "_No capisso! No go capio!_"

_That's not quite Spanish…_ Reine remarked inwardly. After pondering for a few moment, Reine decided to walk over to the woman and put her hand gently on her shoulder. The foreign woman turned at her, her round brown eyes teary and her lips trembling as she was surrounded by people who couldn't understand her words—the very same people who had separated her from her daughter.

"_P__àrlistu venesian?_"

Do you speak Venetian?

The woman immediately nodded with a sudden burst of energy, finally finding someone who understood her language. Reine let out a relief sigh—she read about the language a few years ago during her training as a field agent and she remembered the recording she heard while reading the book on Romantic languages.

"_Parla italiano?_" Reine asked again.

The woman nodded again and Reine smiled before turning around at the interns, "Anyone speaking Italian here?"

"My Italian is only as far as the menu in Trattoria da Cesare," an intern replied.

"I barely passed my high school Italian."

For the sake of the non-English speaking mother, Reine tried to keep calm. She faced her and said, in Italian, "_We are currently trying our best to help your daughter. I will stay here with you._"

Much to her surprise, the mother took her hand and shook it violently, almost crying in the process. "_Thank you! Thank you very much!_"

After that, Reine guided her to the ER desk where she asked the woman to sit down before she sat next to her.

"_How should I call you?_"

"_Amanda._" She replied after a great length of pause.

"_First of all, Amanda, I need to ask: how did your daughter get injured?_"

Amanda's eyes widened and her lips trembled as if she wanted to say something before deciding against it. Reine knew she knew something, and that was when she noticed the yellowish-blue spots on Amanda's arms and neck.

Suddenly the room of the trauma room was opened with a burst and a split second later a bed was wheeled down the room.

Reine could hear Neil calling out, "Page Dr Kreiss—the surgeon!"

* * *

Reine tried her best to calm Amanda down while waiting on the couch outside the OR area. However, without any clue to what had happened to her daughter, the ebony-haired woman was obviously restless and anxious.

Eventually, Reine decided to walk to the OR gallery, where other doctors would usually gather to watch the ongoing operation from above. Inside the gallery, there would usually be monitor that would display the view of the current operating site as well as an intercom connecting the gallery to the OR. When Reine stepped into the room, the monitor was not turned on since there was nobody inside, but that was not her intention.

She took the phone and put it before her ear, and the phone inside the OR rang.

Elli, who was the lead operating nurse, looked upwards and saw Reine. "Dr Kreiss—the internist—is on the line."

"What does she want?" Neil asked without looking away.

"I don't know, Doctor."

Gwen sighed. "Take the call."

A nurse pressed on the speaker button to allow Reine's voice to be heard in the whole OR.

_"This is Dr Kreiss,"_ she said. _"I want to know how the operation is going."_

"Why does it have to do with you?" Neil asked coldly.

_"The girl's mother doesn't speak English and none of the interns there speak Venetian or Italian."_

"And so?" he asked, "Even if you happen to speak Italian, that doesn't give you the right to call for an update as if you are my boss."

_"This is a woman who basically has no idea what is going on with her little girl besides that she is burned alive. This very same woman had carried the little creature on your table for nine months and spent probably three to four hours in burning pain of labour which you, Dr Forrester, would never understand."_ Reine explained. _"I believe that the very least we could do is to tell her how her daughter is doing on the table. She has the right to know—as her mother."_

No one answered to Reine and her words sunk into the OR with the accompaniment of the sound of metal lightly clashing to each other as Elli returned the used instruments on the tray after handing the surgeons their requested instruments.

"She suffers a third-degree burn affecting 25% of her total body surface. Her airway is severely damaged due to the burns on her neck, so our objective is to repair the airway before we proceed with the intubation." Gwen explained, breaking the silence. "If everything is going well, this operation will end in two hours."

_"Thank you, Gwen. I appreciate that."_

With that, Reine put the receiver back and walked back to Amanda and told her what Gwen had explained to her earlier in a simpler term she would understand.

Neil said nothing on Gwen's decision to give the information on Reine, but it took one to identify one's kind—Gwen knew what was roughly going through in his head.

"She is the kind of person who will go out her way to help others even at the expense of herself—you can say that as 'angelic', but for me, she's just foolishly thinking that she can be everyone's hero." She said, "If I hadn't done that, who knows what she would've done?"

* * *

_"Everyone's hero"..._

_Is Reine really trying to be everyone's hero, or is it something else?_

_Stay tuned for the next update!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

_**A/N: I don't speak Venetian or Italian, so please tell me if those phrases are wrong if there's any Italian or Venetian speakers here! Thanks in advance! ^^** _

_**On another note, if you have a suggestion for any character in HM that will suit a particular medical field that you want me to include in the story, feel free to drop a suggestion :) (personally I think Allen really fits Plastics Surgery)**_


	6. Rosa

Gwen stared at the chart of this little girl—now they knew that her name was Rosa—whose majority of upper body was wrapped in bandages. Looking at her condition, she would need a skin graft.

Much to her dismay, she must admit that the best person to consult this case to would be… Dr Allen Rosencrantz.

Gwen walked over to the Plastic Department and tried to find the redhead. It wasn't difficult, though, since he noticed her first and made his way to her. He smiled, which for Gwen seemed to be another proof of his smugness. "Anything I can do for you?" he asked.

Gwen tapped the chart onto his arm twice. Allen took it and did a quick read on it. "Skin graft would be the best, yes,"

"I'm going to her room now."

"I'm presuming you want me to tag along?"

Gwen didn't say anything as she turned on her heels and began to walk away. Allen shrugged and followed her.

"At least you could have shown a bit more professionalism, Gwen."

"Well, in the end I consulted you since you're the best in this field. That's one count of professionalism, I suppose." Gwen replied, "And one more thing: don't call me so familiarly as if we were friends."

Allen smirked, "No wonder your sister left the house. You're such a difficult woman."

"I thought you advised me to be professional, Dr Rosencrantz?" Gwen asked back, "Which part of talking about private lives is considered as 'professional'?"

Allen sighed.

* * *

_"This is Dr Rosencrantz, and he will be working with me to treat Rosa's burns."_ Gwen explained in fluent Italian.

Amanda nodded before she turned to Allen. _"Please heal my daughter."_

Truthfully, the only Italian multiword phrase that Allen knew was 'sei bellissima stasera'—you look beautiful tonight. However, refusing to admit that, Allen smiled confidently at the mother. Thankfully, it worked—it always worked.

Sometimes you just need to appear to be confident no matter what you actually feel on the matter.

"So, let's take a look at the little princess now…"

Rosa round hazel eyes peered curiously at Allen. Allen smiled to her, "_Buongiorno_, Rosa."

Rosa immediately looked away.

Initially, she resisted when Allen tried to perform an examination on her despite Gwen's assurance. She fought amidst all the lines connected to her little body so fiercely that Allen decided not to perform the examination himself. "You can perform that on my stead, Dr Kreiss," he said.

Gwen rolled her eyes. As much as she wished there would be as less contact as possible between them, she would do anything to treat her patients. "What do you need?"

"Checking the skin on her thighs as well as buttocks." He said, "For obvious reasons, I would prioritize performing the skin graft for her face and neck."

"I'll give the results to you before lunch."

Allen glanced at Rosa for a moment, trying to examine the severity of her burns from a distance. "We are going to perform the operation tomorrow morning."

* * *

Dr Allen Rosencrantz was famous for his almost artistic flavour in performing any cosmetic surgery. While his suturing might not be as fast as other surgeons, his was done so beautifully and smoothly that it left minimal, or even no scar at all.

"What's the use of performing a cosmetic procedure if we leave scars behind?" he once told his team. "Maybe plastic surgeons only appear to fix what's seen outside, but by doing that… we are actually fixing something inside the patient—their self-esteem. Don't forget that."

Dr Rosencrantz immediately impressed the interns who were watching the procedure by his graft harvesting skill in which he managed to harvest a flawless piece of graft from her abdomen, since he had decided to perform a full-thickness graft for the burns on her face and neck so that it would blend well with its surrounding instead of appearing darker or paler. By that, he had managed to defend his reputation as one of the star plastic surgeon in the state of Washington.

"She is a pretty little girl," he remarked as he began to secure the graft on its new place. "We can't let the burns destroy that."

"You are right," Gwen remarked. "You have always placed a great deal of care to one's beauty, after all."

Allen halted for a moment and stole a glance at Gwen. Behind his surgical mask, he smirked. "You seem to have seen through my skin, Dr Kreiss," he remarked, "but you haven't seen any deeper than that, I'm afraid."

* * *

Reine was walking down the stairs leading to the lobby when she noticed Amanda. If she recalled correctly, today was Rosa's skin grafting surgery. She figured that maybe Amanda was heading to the cafeteria to grab something to eat while waiting.

Since Rosa's first surgery, Reine had never seen the pair anymore since it didn't fall under her jurisdiction. As for language barrier, Gwen spoke Italian fluently as well since their father had been part Italian. Nevertheless, Reine thought it might be good just to drop by and say hi since she had seen her anyway.

However, it was then Reine noticed that Amanda was accompanied by a man she had never seen before. They seemed to be in a very deep conversation. This man had a very bulky built, thick eyebrows and stern expression on his face which Reine thought to have arisen because of the nature of whatever discussion he was having with Amanda at the moment.

_Maybe later, then,_ Reine told herself.

When she had just turned around, she heard sound of a blow. Reine turned her back and saw Amanda was struck down to the floor. Reine immediately ran towards her, "Amanda!"

_"You… you burned my girl…"_ she heard Amanda murmured.

Reine turned towards Amanda's male companion who was about to strike her again. Reine reflexively gripped his wrist and twisted it before pressing it against his back.

_"No violence in hospital."_ Reine warned sternly. _"And I would appreciate an explanation of that statement, if you please, sir."_

"Let me go!" he roared in English, "I'll kill that bitch!"

Reine tightened her grip, prompting him to groan in pain. She then turned to a nearby nurse, "Bring this lady to the ER, and call the police as well as the Social Security."

"Y-yes, doc!"

She ran towards Amanda and helped her to stand before leading her to the ER. Before they left, however, Amanda turned to Reine and said, _"Thank you, thank you so much."_

_"No problem, Amanda."_ Reine replied sincerely before turning towards her male companion. "As for you, sir," Reine continued. "I'm afraid you have to be content to be stuck with me until the police arrive."

* * *

_How will the operation turns out?_

_And what did Amanda mean by her accusation?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	7. A Real Prince

_hannah: Welcome back! Actually, I didn't plan on giving him a name, even! But you can imagine him to be like Bob if you wish hahaha_

_teamBLAZE: yeah I think so too! ^^ _

* * *

"This is tricky…" Rod mused.

Rosa refused to talk to anyone, including her mother. She spent her days by staring blankly into space if she was awake, simply shutting out everyone from her world. After much consideration, Gwen thought consulting a psychologist would help, and Rod had always been popular among children thanks to his exuberant personality.

"Does she show… any preference?" Rod asked, "Like, you know… does she seems to be more tense if there's any men around her?"

Gwen furrowed her brow. Rosa did seem to be more agitated when Allen was around, but she had thought it was because Allen was a stranger. Then again, she wasn't exactly familiar with Rosa herself.

"I think so."

"Then, I might not be your man in this case," Rod said, "Why not Reine? She's also a certified psychologist, right?"

"No." Gwen replied quickly. _Working with Allen is enough._

Rod pouted, "Why? I assure you she will do fine!"

"Just… no."

Rod studied her carefully, "So the rumours were true. You guys aren't in good terms."

"So what?"

Rod sighed, "Never mind, Dr Kreiss."

* * *

Mark was walking down the corridor when he saw Reine was conversing to two police officers and one plain-clothed woman. Out of curiosity, Mark went to them, "Hey,"

Reine turned and she seemed to be startled to see Mark, "Hey, wasn't expecting you," she greeted before turning to the officer. "In any case, Officer, you may want to speak to the doctor in charge of the girl's treatment, Dr Guinevere Kreiss."

The police officer nodded, "I will bring him back to the station while my partner will contact Dr Kreiss."

"I can bring you to her," Mark volunteered. "You mind, Reine?"

"No… that'd be great, actually." She smiled, "Thanks, Mark."

"I will go as well." The plain-clothed woman said, and that was when Mark saw the Social Service ID card around her neck.

"Okay, please follow me."

Mark led them to the Pediatrics ward in which Rosa was staying and luckily for them, Gwen was there. "Dr Kreiss," Mark called. "You have a guest."

Gwen turned around, "Yes, how may I help you?"

"I am Officer Harrison and this is Ms Baptist from the Social Service," the officer introduced himself, "I understand that you are the doctor in charge for Rosa Bianchi."

"Yes, I am," Gwen replied, "Anything I can help you with?"

"It is suspected that she is a victim of domestic abuse, together with her mother, Ms Amanda Bianchi." The officer replied, "I would like to ask the medical record regarding Miss Rosa Bianchi."

"Can I see the girl?"

Gwen crossed her arms and lowered her head for a moment before she finally sighed and said, "Why don't we talk in the meeting room?"

* * *

Gwen paged for Allen and Rod and five minutes later, the five people had gathered in one of the smaller meeting rooms in the hospital. Gwen had briefed Allen and Rod of what she had learned from the officers and asked Rod for an opinion.

"It seems plausible," Rod replied, "but if that's the case, I don't think we should introduce another stranger to Rosa. Especially males."

Allen nodded, "She is in the progress of healing from the skin graft, she shouldn't move around too much. So I hope there would be nothing that provoke her to throw tantrums."

"Dr Kreiss?" Officer Harrison called.

"I think we should wait," Gwen replied. "For the time being, I can give you her medical record, but I will ask you to refrain from actually seeing her. That includes you, Ms Baptist."

"Yes, I understand," the social service officer replied, "I will talk to Ms Amanda Bianchi, though."

"Officer," Rod called.

"Yes, Mr Braxton?"

"Will you… prosecute him?"

"That would depend on the DA, of course," the officer replied. "Why?"

Rod paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I know this might not be my place to say… but I don't think you should put either Amanda or Rosa on the stand. Especially Rosa."

Officer Harrison thought of it for a while before nodding at Rod. "I would let the DA knows."

* * *

When Gwen came into her room that afternoon, Amanda was nowhere to be found—most probably talking to Ms Baptist, still. So, Rosa was all alone in the room. She seems to be scribbling something on her book so engrossedly that the little girl didn't notice Gwen coming up to her.

Gwen was stunned when she realized what Rosa was doing: she was furiously drawing mad circles on the smiling faces of Disney Princesses on the magazine, blacking them out.

"Rosa?" Gwen called carefully.

Rosa jerked at the mention of her name, and when she finally noticed Gwen, she threw both the magazine and her marker at her. The marker hit her scrubs before landing on the floor, leaving a black spot near the stomach area where it had been hit.

_"They are beautiful, but I'm not."_ Finally she broke her silence, her voice rich but trembling in fear and disappointment. _"I won't find a prince anymore."_

Gwen looked at the now destroyed picture of the Disney Princesses. True, Rosa only scrawled their faces out, leaving their limbs intact as if she wanted them to have the same injuries as she had sustained.

_"You won't understand, doctor, because you're so pretty."_

For a moment, Gwen didn't know what to do. Children were the most sensitive creatures on Earth—one wrong move and you broke them forever. And now, in front of her there was another broken child like any of her other patients. And just like many of her other patients, it wasn't only her body that was broken—it was her heart, her feelings, her hopes and dreams that were broken. And she knew, she knew better than anyone else that these intangible things were the more precious ones and irreparable by her scalpel.

Gwen crouched down and took the marker, then gave it to Rosa. _"Why don't you mark my face, too?"_ she offered with a smile.

Gwen then took a nearby chair and sat next to Rosa's bed, ensuring that she was in her reach. For a moment, Rosa was at disbelief of that offer, but Gwen didn't back down at all. Slowly, Rosa put the marker against Gwen's cheek, and she began to draw a line on her face. The tip of the marker was cold against the nerves on her skin, and Gwen closed her eyes, not even trying to trace the lines drawn on her.

When she didn't feel the marker anymore, Gwen opened her eyes and Rosa was staring at her. _"You know, Rosa, I think having a mark is a privilege because not everyone has it."_

_"And, let me tell you a secret, your mark has magic in it."_ Rosa's eyes began to sparkle at the mention of 'magic', _"It will tell you who is the real prince among the fake ones."_

_"Really?"_

Gwen nodded. _"The gentleman doctor put his magic in it."_

Gwen recalled how Allen seemed to always make his female patients felt better and more beautiful after he touched (read: operated on) them. Just like he himself had said: he restored their confidence by touching their skin with his scalpel. His touch was indeed magical. _"He is a great wizard. Like Merlin."_

_"And do you remember Beast?"_ Gwen added, _"He finds his princess because he is a beast, right?"_

Rosa nodded.

_"You know what that means?"_

This time, she shook her head.

_"Real princesses know that real princes are not about how they look like, it's about what they have here…"_ Gwen pressed her finger on Rosa's chest. _"So do real princes."_

For the first time since she was admitted, Rosa finally beamed into a smile.

A moment later, Gwen found herself sharing the space in Rosa's bed, reading to her the Beauty and Beast story in Italian to the little girl, with Rosa crawling into her arms and snuggled up against her. They seemed to enjoy themselves so much, Gwen included, that none of them noticed that Allen Rosencrantz had been watching them since Gwen began to read the tale to the girl as he had intended to check on the girl himself.

Allen tugged his lips into a slight smile. Ever since he had known her, she had always been the kind of doctor who would spend her time outside the OR trying to bond with this little creatures. And she wouldn't mind to get herself dirty—the black marking on her face was one example for that. It wasn't hard to see the child in Gwen herself; for Allen, Gwen was a little girl in the body of an adult woman with all her cold shoulder treatments and periodic tantrums.

_But that makes her so… adorable._ Allen remarked before he turned around and walked away, letting Gwen and Rosa having their moments together.

* * *

_Finally Gwen manages to break through Rosa's shell,_

_and help her to see the real meaning of 'beauty' that goes deeper than her skin._

_What's the next for our doctors?_

_Stay tuned to find out! ^^_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	8. Just Coffee

_Hey guys, sorry for the slow update! I have some difficulties in deciding what case should I put, and I decided t focus more on Dragon's Tear for the time being since it's finishing before I put all my attention to this story._

_teamBLAZE: yeah, she's an OC. For now, she's just cameo, but if something comes up, she may be a regular to this story... I don't know yet ^^_

* * *

Reine had just finished her round. She took the charts to the nurse stations, "Thanks," she muttered quietly as the on-call nurse, Felicity Schurz, took the charts from her.

"You look tired, Dr Kreiss." Felicity remarked.

Reine hadn't have many chances to talk to this particular nurse, but every time she did, the young woman gave off an impression of being cheerful and upbeat while maintaining her gracefulness. She had long, light blond hair curled towards the end and steel blue eyes with round face—an overall pleasing appearance that contributed to the fact that she was dubbed as the most beautiful nurse in the Internal Medicine department; a fame that had made this particular nurse known to the Surgery department, in particular Dr Rosencrantz who seemed to have knowledge of all the beautiful women in the hospital.

She was a very efficient nurse, too. She was always on time with her rounds and reports, and Reine learned that she had built good relationships with many of the patients during their course of stay.

"I was on-call yesterday," Reine explained, "maybe I'll get some sleep in the on-call room now."

Felicity nodded, "You really should, Doc."

Reine then walked towards the on-call room and opened the door. Thankfully, no one was inside now.

It wasn't a big room, just enough to fit two beds at each side of the room as well as two nightstands with drawers—one next to each bed—to put stuff like jewelleries or watches. Reine walked to the bed on the left and pulled the stick that fastened her bun out, letting her hair to fall free. Her habit of knotting her otherwise straight hair into a bun had given it a slightly wavy appearance—not that she cared.

She had just put her head against the pillow—too hard to be called comfortable, but who cared anyway?—when she felt her pager was vibrating.

"Gosh…" she groaned, staring at the screen. "As always, ER never sleeps."

* * *

Reine arrived at the ER, her hair back together in her trademark bun, when she saw the interns rushing here and there like confused flock. Reine scanned her surrounding: that O'Scary was nowhere to be found.

"There was an armed robbery in a nearby jewellery store," Elli told her. "We received five people."

"Gunshot wound vics, huh… that should be easy even for the interns, right?"

"The thing is… they don't have the confidence."

"Where's that O'Scary?"

"Today's his day off." Elli replied. "We've paged for Dr Pearce, though."

Reine sighed. "Never mind," she told herself, "Let's deal with this precise and presto."

Reine walked to one of the bed and one of the interns immediately approached her and briefed her about the patient's condition. Reine nodded before glancing at the patient, a male in his thirties who were unconscious. There was a gunshot wound on his thigh. Reine took a careful look at it. "A 9 mm bullet, huh…" she then turned at the interns, "Any info on what kind of guns the perp used?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Reine!"

Reine turned around and found Mark rushing towards her. "It's a gunshot wound from a 9mm bullet. Judging from the wound, it's shot at 50 degree upward angle. If I were you, I'd page someone from ortho."

Mark didn't immediately respond. Reine shook him slightly and called, "Yo! Marcus Pearce!"

"Oh, uh, yeah, page someone from ortho."

"What the heck going into you? You're the surgeon, right?" Reine asked, slightly annoyed. "Go scrub in for this man for the time being. After you've removed the bullet, let the ortho handles the rest, 'cause you still have at least four more to go!"

"O-okay!"

Reine studied him for a moment, then she said in a calmer tone, "Can we talk for a moment, Dr Pearce?"

She brought him out of the earshot of the interns. "What's the deal, Mark?" she asked. "You're an attending, right? Get a grip of yourself. Those interns are lost sheep thanks to that damned Forrester!"

"I know, it's just that…"

"What?"

"How do you know such things? You deduced the kind of bullet and calculated the damage just by one look on the wound. You're an internist, right?"

Reine was slightly taken aback by this remark. "It's no time to discuss that," she said. "We have patients to save, and we have to deal with it precise and presto."

* * *

Reine quickly did the preliminary check on the other patients, but since she wasn't a surgeon she had to ask Elli to page the relevant surgeons. Georgia hadn't been cleared for a solo surgery as a trauma surgeon yet, so as long as Forrester wasn't here yet, she couldn't be the lead surgeon.

But Reine was running out of options. She was considering the option of treating Georgia as an attending _general_ surgeon as she examined the last patient. "Multiple gunshot wounds, 9mm…" she muttered.

"Move."

Reine turned sharply at the sound of that now-familiar deep and cold voice. Neil Forrester was staring back at her, clothed in his dark purple scrub. Ignoring her, Neil took a step closer to the patient and leaned over to see the wound on his chest. "A point-blank to the left ventricle," he turned the patient over carefully. "No exit wound."

He turned around, "Page cardio!" he then turned to Georgia, who was standing nearby. "This is your first solo. Don't kill the patient."

"W-what?! Wherefore?!"

"Talk less, do more!" Neil commanded. "Get going!"

"Y-yessir!" Georgia replied before she scrammed away to the OR.

After the last patient was wheeled into the OR, things were less hectic. Reine eyed Neil curiously, "You don't wanna watch her first solo?" she asked.

"She'll do fine."

Reine found herself smiling, "You seem so harsh to her, but actually you put quite some faith in your residents."

"Have a problem with my tutoring style?"

"No." Reine said, "but you seem to know a lot about… firearm forensics."

Reine recalled the way he had swiftly analysed the patient's condition, and as far as her knowledge served her, he was nothing but bull's eye in his assessment.

"I'm a trauma surgeon," he replied simply. "I should've been asking that question to _you_. For an internist, you know quite a lot about that field."

This was the second time someone asked her this question. She knew she was playing her disguise dangerously, but earlier was an emergency—she couldn't hide the fact that she was trained in firearm forensics, refusing to save the patients, just to keep her undercover. Reine cleared her throat, "I got interested in the field, so I read up," she said.

Much to her surprise, he chuckled at her reply. "What a strange woman," he remarked. It was then Reine felt something cold against the sleeve of her coat, and when she looked down, she saw a can of black coffee. "Thanks for covering for me," he said sincerely. "You're not half bad, Dr Kreiss."

It wasn't a full compliment, but finally he acknowledged her as a doctor.

That realization brought a certain kind of warmth in Reine's heart, despite the coldness of the coffee can he had given her earlier in her hand.

* * *

"So, the DA is going with the prosecution?" Gwen asked.

"Yes," Ms Baptist replied, "And Rosa has agreed to testify against her mother's boyfriend."

"That's quite something." Gwen remarked with a smile. "She's a strong girl."

"She is," Ms Baptist agreed, "Well, then, I'll be going, Dr Kreiss. Thank you for your cooperation."

"Yes, thank you for the hard work."

Gwen walked down the empty aisle until she found her sister. She had heard the nurses talking about her—more specifically her relationship with Dr Forrester. It seemed that they hit it off quite well, with he showing her a bit of affection in the form of a can of coffee.

It was just coffee, but when it's Neil Forrester, it's saying something.

Neil Forrester.

There had always been something shady with that guy. He had almost never socialized with the other doctors, and when he did, nine out of ten would be work-related. His dedication to his job was impressive, yes, but Gwen always had this feeling that he was hiding something… just like Reine (only that in Reine's case, she knew what she was hiding).

Gwen kept walking towards Reine, and when finally she stood next to her, she whispered. "I'd be careful if I were you,"

"Excuse me?" Reine asked back.

Gwen stared at her sister. "Neil Forrester has too many secrets for your taste."

"Oh, yeah? Seems like he's my kind of guy." Reine replied with a smug smile on her face. "Secrets? Doesn't that sound like sugar to ants like me?"

"I'm serious, Reine."

Reine finally wiped off the smile from her face, turning into a more serious mode. "Okay, Gwen, I'm touched by your gesture of concern. I do, really." She said, "but if you've said whatever you've said just because his dislike to mingle… I have to take that with a pinch of salt."

Reine began to walk off, "Besides, it's just coffee."

* * *

_It's just coffee..._

_It was cold black coffee, but it seems that thanks to that Reine's relationship with Neil begins to warm and lighten up._

_What happens next, though?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading!_

_Please rate and review! ^^_


	9. Attachment

_teamBLAZE: hahaha I think Reine's just trying not to make too big of a deal of the coffee ^^"_

* * *

The Oakbrook General Hospital protocols merely stated that a surgeon was advised to work together with a clinical physician for their post-op procedures, or pre-op if it was an elective procedure. It didn't specify which clinical physician a surgeon should work with, to give the surgeons the freedom and flexibility depending on the demand of the case and the capabilities of the said clinical physician.

Even so, it couldn't be helped that a surgeon would have that certain physician he would trust the most. The physician whose skills he had most faith in. The inside term for this occurrence would be that the clinical physician was 'attached' to the surgeon. Like being in a relationship kind of attached.

Dr Neil Forrester hadn't found it—the internist who was a match for him. It wasn't about his incredible pace in operation, for the internist wouldn't be involved at all in the operation. Maybe it was about his freezing cold personality, or his unbelievably sharp tongue if he ever had the willingness to open his mouth. He was a publicly known lone wolf. The only thing that kept him from being fired was Dunhill's (Chief of Surgery at this moment) knowledge that Neil's lone wolf personality stemmed from his extreme shyness.

"He just needs someone who understands him," he once said, "or even better, someone who can melt him."

"You need the sun to melt him. In his arm's length." Dr Alicia Keynes remarked cynically. Alicia Keynes—Alice for short—had been smitten by the trauma surgeon when she had seen him on her first day as a plastic surgeon. She fell head over heels for him. But he rebuffed her advances, so all that was left in this silver-haired young woman was bitterness and cynicism for her former crush—and maybe still a bit of that crush. "Which is nothing but _impossible_." She made sure that she enunciated the last word very clearly—each syllable.

Dunhill had laughed then. He knew all the drama that was going on between his staff—so of course he knew Alice's unrequited feelings for Neil. "Then a sun it is," he mused. "A sun in his arms, yes, that sounds great. Personal heater."

* * *

His arrival was unfortunately timed with Neil's retreat to the on-call room for a nap and Reine Kreiss was just about to head to a nearby pub for a drink with Chelsea when they saw that happening, so they rushed back to the ER and—without changing back to scrubs—they went to the patient. The first thing that greeted them was an axe, stabbed to his left chest.

"Holy…" Chelsea muttered, "An axe?!"

"Welcome to ER." Reine remarked sarcastically.

The paramedic approached her as Reine put on her latex gloves, "John Doe, 30-40, stabbed by a chopping axe for unknown circumstances. He is unconscious midway to the hospital due to shock."

"Trauma Room 1! Page Forrester!" she commanded.

They wheeled him into Trauma Room 1. Chelsea Egan, confused with the swift turn of events, resigned herself to the wave that brought her into the Trauma Room 1.

Meanwhile, Reine had been around in the ER for too long to know the drill. Hiro, acting as a scribe for trauma cases, was ready for her report. "Time of arrival, 10.02 p.m. Judging from the dimension of the axe, there might be a tear on his pericardium—"

Her report was cut short by the sudden loud alarm from the cardio. "Heart rate is falling!" Elli cried.

_Where's that damn Forrester when he is needed?!_ Reine cursed inwardly.

She knew it wasn't her jurisdiction or whatever, but Georgia wasn't in—only Hiro, the first-year intern who had once asked her about which needle to use. Reine knew she didn't have the luxury of time to muse or ponder or whatever.

"You know what? I'm gonna take that damn axe out of him."

"WHAT?!" Chelsea screamed, "He's gonna bleed!"

"Hell yes he would. That's why, Elli, give him a transfusion now." She said, gripping the axe tightly by his chest, while Elli quickly followed the instruction, "And the wound would be big enough to give me access to his heart, so I can massage it directly."

"You're crazy, Reine!"

"I am! So where's is that Forrester?! He's my Prozac!" With one breath, Reine pulled the axe from his chest, and as Chelsea had suspected, blood spurting out from his wound to everywhere it could reach, including Reine and Elli and the poor intern (Chelsea was out of reach since she didn't step into the room).

Reine quickly reached for his heart, scanning its pericardium with her fingers to find out where the damage was. After that, covering the wound with her finger so the blood wouldn't spill, she began to massage the heart, and the alarm died down.

Chelsea's breath came in heavy counts as she saw the scene unfolding before her. She was rarely on duty for ER, so she wasn't accustomed to the bloody scene that ER might have time to time. But what shocked her the most was Reine's course of action—she would get into trouble with the Chief if he ever found this out.

"OR 2." A voice behind her said.

Chelsea turned around and found Neil Forrester, standing in his dark purple scrub. "Get going!"

He didn't order Reine to let go of the heart, because he knew it was too risky. Instead, he allowed her to enter the OR, massaging the patient's heart all the while, before he scrubbed in, "That's it." He told her finally.

Reine let go of his heart carefully and stepped out from the OR, where Chelsea had been waiting for her with towel and a change of clothes. "There's blood all over you." She said, wrapping her in the towel, "You're crazy, Reine."

"Well, I got my Prozac already," she murmured. "Sorry, Chels. We're supposed to go for a drink."

"Don't sweat it, we're doctors." She said, "you're amazing back there."

"Crazy or amazing?"

"Crazily amazing." She replied with a grin.

Reine laughed. She then headed for a quick shower to wash the blood off her body and changed into the clothes Chelsea had brought her—her other spare clothes.

They decided to wait for the patient; they wanted to know whether Reine's craziness was worth it. About two hours later, Neil came out from the OR and they stood up, "How's he?"

Neil raised his eyebrow, but nevertheless pulled his mask down. "Recovery room. Stable."

Reine sighed in relief, "Thank God!" she then faced Neil again, "Hey, you ruined our drink night 'cause you're napping! Treat us some drinks!"

Chelsea turned to Reine with disbelief, "Reine, are you asking him out for a drink?!"

"If he had been there, we would be on our third drink by now!" Reine retorted.

Neil glared at Reine for a moment, and then he sighed. "Fifteen minutes at the lobby."

Reine smiled. "Good. Deal."

Chelsea's jaw dropped open. Did Neil Forrester just agree for a drink after work?

* * *

The three of them finally reached the small bar usually called The Pit. Many of the staff in Oakbrook would visit this place for some booze after work just to chill out or maybe to drink away their grief thanks to the nature of their profession. It was managed by a young man named Kai, with his suntanned skin, mousy brown eyes and trademark purple bandanna on his head, who would be a listening ear to his client's woes—ranging from breakup to deaths—as he mixed them their drinks.

It would be Reine's first time to the Pit; that was why she had been upset when she thought they wouldn't make it for a drink, because Chelsea had glorified the place as a sort of sanctuary for doctors or whatever.

Besides, bars made good place for gathering intel.

It was a small but cozy bar with dimmed lights and a stage for live music at the corner just beside the door. There was no one playing, though. It was already past midnight when they reached the place, but it was still crowded with people and smelled of liquor.

"Isn't that Chelsea and Reine?"

Reine turned at the familiar voice. Mark and Allen were sitting by the bar. Mark waved his hand, "Hey, girls!"

Mark then noticed Neil—and just like Chelsea before him, his jaw dropped. "Forrester?"

Chelsea pulled Mark and whispered, "Reine's doing. Long story."

Allen went over to Neil, "So, finally trying a hand on socializing, aren't you?"

Neil simply shrugged him off but he took a seat next to him, and Allen smiled at his gesture. Kai went over to the new clients, "More doctors? Celebration or grieving session?"

"Neither, I guess." Chelsea replied, "Tom Collins, please."

"Right away." He then turned to Reine who took a seat next to Neil as Chelsea took the empty seat next to her, "Oh, I haven't seen you around here. Wouldn't miss a chick like you, miss."

"First time."

"And what would you like?" Kai asked with a wink that went ignored by Reine.

"You have daiquiri?"

"Certainly, Miss." He turned to Neil, "The usual, mister?"

"Yeah."

Reine turned her chair to face Neil, "You're a regular here?" she asked. "Thought this kind of place too noisy for your taste?"

Kai laughed. "First time seeing him with pals. He's a lone wolf, usually."

Reine faced the bartender—he wouldn't be much older than her. "Oh, and so what's the usual of this loner regular?"

"Martini. Shaken not stirred. Lemon slice instead of olives." Kai replied as he served Chelsea her Tom Collins and began mixing Reine's order. "And here's the daiquiri."

"Thanks."

Kai quickly mixed Neil's order, the shaken martini, and handed over the cloudy drink to him. "So… Bond's drink?"

"Isn't that a right fit for him?" Mark commented.

"Huh? He's not nearly as gentlemanly as Bond is."

Mark laughed, "I was talking about him being British!"

Reine faced Neil, now her jaw dropped. "You're British?!"

"Haven't you been hearing him speak?" Allen asked, "Oh, yeah, he's sort of muted."

Neil took a sip of his drink, "I was born in London. Moved here when I was three."

Only then Reine noted his slightly British accent that she had missed all this time since he would usually speak in a very low voice and no longer than one sentence. In the instances he spoke longer than that, she had been too angry to note his accent—who cared about accent, anyway. Besides, his accent was not as obvious as a Londoner would since he had lived in US for long. But it was still there, and she could hear it now.

"Ohmygod… you are British! Authentic British!"

"Can you just shut up?" Neil asked. "So what if I'm British?"

"You should talk more, Neil!" she said, taking a sip. "I love listening British accent! Sounds cool!"

Neil stared at her for a moment, baffled. "You're a crazy woman."

"That's what I've been told today," she replied.

Neil was silent for a moment. He took a deep breath and finally said, "About today…" he began slowly, "I won't tell your chief."

Reine laughed. "Thanks. That helps me a lot."

"Next time. If you're free… I won't kick you out from my OR." He said, before glancing away, "It'd be good to see the procedure before handling them, right?"

Reine was stunned for a moment, then she turned to Chelsea, "Chels? You hear what he said?"

"Nope."

"He won't kick me out from his OR anymore. What does that supposed to mean?!"

"Maybe… he's offering you to be attached to him. You know—professional kind of attached?" Chelsea replied, "About time, right? You're the only internist who's stuck with him for this long."

Reine turned to Neil again, who was now facing away from her, nursing his drink. "Finished consulting?" he asked.

Under the dim light, Reine couldn't really see his face—and she couldn't notice the slight blush which wasn't caused by his drink.

"You can be more straightforward than that, y'know that?!"

Neil shrugged. "So?"

Reine took a gulp and finished her drink, before putting her glass on the table. "That's fine by me."

"Good. Deal." Neil replied, mimicking her earlier.

* * *

_So, Neil and Reine are now attached. Professionally._

_Wonder how this partnership will go on?_

_Stay tuned for the next update!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

**_A/N: okay, I have a confession. I have a thing for British accent—I think it's very cool! Who agrees with me? ^^_**


	10. Cross My Heart And Kick My Gut

_Guest: Thank you for the compliment! *blush* You read all of my stories, including the super long Dragon's Tear? I hope you continue enjoying them! ^^_

_FanficLuverHM13: I know right! There's just something in British accent that makes it sounds soo... awesome! :P_

* * *

It was hard to keep your mouth shut when things as spectacular as getting stabbed by an axe were rolling. Especially when the one handling the procedure was a 'mere' internist.

When Reine arrived at the hospital the next day, the staffs were staring at her before whispering to a nearby colleague. Reine initially though it was because of her pink hair, although it was supposed to be long overdue since she had worked in this hospital for three months now. Reine simply shrugged it off and walked to her locker.

She had just finished putting her hair into her signature bun (since it was placed at the top of her head rather than the back of it like people usually would do) when Chelsea suddenly burst in. "Chief wants to see you, Reine—and I tell you, he smells trouble."

"About last night?" Reine asked calmly.

"What else?"

Reine sighed. "Okay, here we go."

Reine was on her way to the Chief's office when she spotted Hiro Kagayama, the surgery intern. "Dr Kagayama, anything I can help you with?"

Hiro bowed deeply before her, "I'm so sorry, Dr Kreiss! I only told my friend about how awesome you were in the ER last night and it went viral! I'm so so sorry!"

Reine smiled and patted his shoulder. "Never mind that. Get back to your work."

Chief of Internal Medicine was a kind man. But he was the kind who would follow the rules to the dot, and he expected all of his employees to do the same. Of course, what Reine had done last night would constitute as a violation to the rules to him.

Reine took a deep breath before opening the door, "Morning, Chief. I understand that you're looking for me."

"Take a seat, Dr Kreiss."

Reine sat before the Chief and he began to talk, "I heard that last night you pulled off… an unacceptable procedure for a _clinical_ physician." The emphasis on the word 'clinical' almost nauseated her. "I would like to confirm that you know you are an attending internist not a surgeon."

"Well, yes, thank you. My scrubs remind me of that." Reine replied, "With all due respect, Chief, I had paged for Dr Forrester at the time of arrival of the patient, but of course until he arrived something had to be done!"

"Leave that to the surgery intern!"

"Are you seriously asking me to leave that man dying at the hand of an unsure intern when I know I can save him?!"

"You are an internist! That's already out of your responsibility!"

Reine stood up as she banged on the table, "The responsibility of _any_ doctor is to save others!"

"Dr Renaissance Kreiss!"

The Chief's fury was halted by the sound of someone knocking the door. The Chief turned abruptly, "Not no—"

He was stopped short when he recognized his visitor. Reine turned around and was shocked as well. It was the Head of Trauma of Oakbrook General himself, the Hands of Asclepius, Neil Forrester.

The Chief wasn't a great fan of the surgeon, so he snorted sarcastically. "What honor do I owe the hand of god to earn this early visit?"

Neil stepped in and stood next to Reine. While standing, she was only as tall as his shoulder, so Reine tilted her head upward to see his face. "What are you doing here?"

"The patient in concern was saved by Dr Kreiss' timely intervention and I would like to ask Dr Kreiss to handle his post-op procedure as per the hospital protocols." He said, "And I'm counting her intervention as a pre-op procedure."

"What the—"

"I am sure you are aware what that means: she is not breaching any of the hospital rules."

The Chief slumped to his seat and sighed heavily. "Leave my office. Both of you." He said, "NOW!"

Neil pulled Reine's arm and dragged her out from the Chief's office. Once they were out, however, Reine yanked his hand off and glared at him, "What were you doing back there?!"

"Stating facts." Neil replied, "You saved the patient. He's not that foolish to fire you because you saved a man."

Reine sighed, "Thanks, Forrester. I owe you one." She then noticed something, "Hey, you didn't sound so British when talking to Chief just now. In fact… you don't usually sound so… British."

Neil quickly cleared his throat. "I can… uh… adjust my accent."

"That's too bad," she muttered. "I like it more when you sound British."

"So what?" Neil growled, "_I won't speak in my British accent just because you like it._"

He spoke the last sentence in a thick British accent, like a tourist who came from London rather than an immigrant from London. Reine turned her head up, her eyes glimmering. "That's it! That's it!"

Neil quickly turned on his heels, "You're wasting my time!"

Reine laughed. "You're so much nicer than you give yourself credit for, Forrester."

Suddenly, she felt her pager was vibrating. She took a look at it and shot a glare at Forrester, who had turned around to look at her. They both nodded at the same time.

ER never sleeps.

* * *

Their patient was a boy sitting upright on his bed. No gunshot wound, no axe protruding out his chest—he seemed to be fine.

At least, he _seemed_ to be.

His guardian—at least the adult who accompanied him to the ER—was a brunette in her twenties with oval-shaped spectacles obscuring her otherwise clear steel grey eyes—with an obvious widow's peak at the centre of her forehead. She was carrying a white canvas bag, complementing her white suit.

Reine took a look at the boy: blue eyes and sandy blond hair. No widow's peak.

Elli gave Forrester the chart. He took a quick look at it before passing it to Reine who took a glance at it. Reine looked over to the boy and smiled, "So, Edward, tell me what's troubling you?"

The boy refused to look at her. "Nothing, doctor." He then stared at the lady, "I-I'm fine, Miss Thompson."

Reine took a good look at him before she went over to Elli, "Distract his teacher," she whispered. "This is a kid we're dealing with."

Elli nodded, "Miss Thompson, we need some admin to do," she said with a very receptionist-like tone, "Please follow me."

After the lady was gone with Elli, it was only Edward, Neil and Reine in that small space inside the curtain. Reine sat on the edge of the hospital bed and reached out to touch Edward's lower jaw. "Ed, look at me," she said gently. The boy followed her words and now her green eyes were set against his blue eyes. "Is there anything, _anything_, that happened in the school? I won't tell your teacher."

Reine felt his pulse was rising, and his pupil dilating. _He's nervous._

"P-promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

Edward stared at her intently for a few moments, so intently she could see his irises so still like a rock. He then reached out to the hem of his vest and pulled it over his head, revealing his crumpled white shirt. Reine began to grow suspicious, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she kept smiling at Edward.

He began to unbutton his shirt, and when he reached the fourth button Reine realized what was wrong with him.

There were numerous blue-black markings on his skin: the smallest of them was the size of a pebble, while the biggest was the size of an adult's fist. His abdomen was almost completely turned into sea of bruises—there was minimal space that showed his real skin colour. Even Neil widened his eyes in shock.

"They said… if I told the teacher… I'm a wimp." He said carefully, "And… a wimp should get a harder whip. To be stronger."

Reine hadn't fully recovered from her shock when suddenly Edward cringed in pain and he coughed violently for a few times.

"Edward?" Reine called worriedly.

He coughed again, but this time fresh blood burst out from his mouth like a geyser. Neil yanked the curtain open.

"Page Dr Kreiss!"

* * *

_Another bloody episode on the ER_

_Stay tuned for the next chapter!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	11. Golden Rule

_teamBLAZE: carabao? must've hurt... T.T my sister is actually a doctor, so I heard some stories from her as well hahaha and she said ER can be pretty crazy :P_

* * *

"With this kind of internal haemorrhage… this isn't something new." Gwen commented as she inspected Edward's intestine carefully. "What do you say, Forrester?"

"Yeah."

They completed the rest of the procedure in silence while the interns simply watched in wonder the way Guinevere Kreiss and Neil Forrester could work together seamlessly with minimal to no verbal communication between them—it was as if they had agreed on the work allocation between them beforehand although the truth was Guinevere Kreiss had been paged at last minute and she scrubbed in when Neil had made the first incision.

"Did you say this kid had talked to Reine?" Gwen asked while inspecting for any more haemorrhage in the area.

"Yes."

"Then let her handle his post-op." Gwen said, "Don't give this kid more adult strangers."

"Tell her, then." Neil said dismissively.

Gwen looked up and stared at Neil, "I thought you're on friendly terms with her?"

"And I thought you were blood-related."

"Doesn't mean we're friendly."

Neil didn't reply her anymore. He had learned from his own experience that women would usually have the last word in an argument and another word he said would be the start of another argument.

Silence is the golden rule.

Neil glanced for a moment at Edward's sleeping face and that moment, instead of a sandy blond boy with freckles on his cheeks, he saw someone else.

A golden-haired boy with violet eyes… who had learned the hard way of that golden rule.

* * *

Neil would usually let the internist (now, Reine) handle the post-op procedure on her own and most of his patients would never get to know him. The less he talked to strangers, the better. He wouldn't even bother to visit them at their rooms.

But somehow, with Edward Brown, things were a bit different.

His legs led him there, and before he knew it, he was standing across the boy's room, looking at Reine who was chatting happily with the boy.

He had heard, or rather read, the story from Reine's Post-It notes: His spectacles were broken two days ago, so today he went to his school with blurry vision and that was one of the causes of him tumbling down the stairs that caused the teacher, Ms Thompson, to bring him to the ER.

Reine added a P.S., though:

_Didn't tally with initial examination. And his words pre-op._

It was just like Gwen had said during the operation. His injuries indicated that he had sustained internal damage for quite some time. The bruises on his skin indicated the same thing as well—alongside the darker new ones, there were some fading marks—those that were already healing.

Neil also remembered what Edward said before he vomited blood:

_They said… if I told the teacher… I'm a wimp._

Neil observed Edward carefully: lanky body, glasses, freckles—he seemed to be a very easy target.

And maybe that's why his instincts brought him there.

* * *

Reine knew Edward was hiding something, and from his words before being wheeled into the OR, she had a pretty good guess of what the story was. However, she knew that it wouldn't be wise to ask him to spill the story blatantly, so she decided to try gaining his trust.

That evening, after changing out from her scrubs, Reine took some time to visit Edward. She had never seen his parents—another strange point that captured her curiosity—and Ms Thompson, the teacher who had brought him here was a new teacher, so she wasn't much of a help besides promising Reine to pass on the contacts to Mr and Mrs Brown (a promise that hadn't been fulfilled yet).

Reine knew that Edward hid a notebook beneath his blanket. He always shuffled the black notebook every time she came in. Despite knowing that, Reine knew that she should play dumb about it, respecting his privacy, and that evening wasn't different.

"I'm just checking how you're feeling," Reine said, smiling.

"I… I'm fine."

Reine stretched her arm and stroke his hair. "That's good! That means you're healing."

Edward forced a smile.

"Are you not comfortable with me being around?" Reine asked softly.

"N-no… not that! I-I'm comfortable!"

_Trying to please the other,_ she noted inwardly, _another sign of a bully victim._

It was then Reine saw Neil near the nurse station just in front of the room through the glass window—and he wasn't wearing his scrubs either. She had noticed him standing there earlier today, too; he seemed to have a vested interest in this particular patient, so unlike him.

"In any case, I'll see you tomorrow, Edward." She said, "G'night."

"Night, doctor." He replied softly.

Reine walked out from Edward's room and walked over to Neil. "What are you doing here?"

"N… nothing in particular." He quickly threw his glance away from Edward who was taking his notebook back from where he had hidden it earlier as well as a pen.

Reine noticed the look in his eyes. It was the look of recognition.

"Why don't you go and talk to him?" she suggested softly.

"I don't talk to my patients."

"There's always the first time for everything." She pointed out, "and besides… I have a feeling that you'll understand him better than I do."

"What are you saying?" Neil asked—in his panicked state, he inadvertently reverted to his British accent. When he realized it, he covered his mouth and refused to look at Reine in her eyes.

However, Reine didn't let that slip by. She crossed her arms, staring straight at Neil.

"Your ability to adjust your accent…" She said slowly, "Why do you need it?"

* * *

The next day, Neil finally braved himself to walk into Edward's room. He sat next to his bed as the boy quickly hid his notebook at its usual place and said, "Don't let them win."

Edward turned to look at him and asked, "W-what do you mean?"

"Those bullies," Neil said, "don't let them win."

"Y… you don't understand me, doctor." The boy said bitterly. "You're cool."

"When I was your age, I was fat with freckles on my cheeks." Neil said, and he took a deep breath and said the next sentence in his unconcealed accent, "and I spoke with a very thick accent."

"Your accent is cool…" he noted.

"For my peers, it wasn't. It was a reason not to let me in." Neil said, "they called me His Fatness. And they would do it in a fake British accent. And they would hit me all over, saying that that would help me to slim down."

Edward bit his lower lip, knowing how it felt.

"I learned to shut up, then. I could spend days not talking to anyone in school—not even teachers. Then, I learned how to alter my accent." Neil recounted, "I moved school, and in my new school no one knew I was British. Since then, very few would know I'm British."

The boy stared at Neil intently, biting his lower lip. He eventually found the courage to ask, "Until now?"

"Yeah." He replied, "but that's where I've lost. I let those bullies defined who I am. I changed to fit in, and I lost who I truly was."

Edward glanced at the small bulge under his blanket, the safe haven of his notebook. Neil's voice echoed in his head, in his unconcealed British accent:

"Don't let them win over you too."

* * *

_Neil's finally come out of his shell and reach out to his patient,_

_and a glimpse of his childhood_

_Stay tuned for the next update!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review!_

**_A/N: I would like to dedicate this Edward Brown arc to all those of you who are being bullied in school, or just simply trying to change yourself to fit in. I was bullied in my old school years ago, and it was horrible. I felt horrible about everything about myself: the way I talk, the way I look... everything. They made me feel I was less of a human than they were. But I realized I lost the game if I conceded to their demands, so I stood up for myself and things started to get better. The way I stood up for myself? I wrote stories and let others read it and give feedback on it. I found out that some loved my stories and they became my new friends. And I simply shrugged those bullies off when they tried to insult me and calling me names. _****_Those bullies didn't apologize or everything, but at least they didn't insult me whatsoever again (I think I tired them out by the cold shoulder treatment). I got the last laugh when I topped the cohort for the national exam as well, and then I moved school and moved on with my life._**

**_My point is: BE YOURSELF. Somebody will love you the way you are, if they don't, they're not worth of your time. That, and please know that you're not alone: there are so many others being bullied in their schools. You are not alone. And many have survived that and moved on, there's no reason why you can't add yourself on this list of survivors. ^^ Cheers!_**


	12. Family

_tiedyedseashells: welcome and thanks a lot for the compliment! ^^ I'm glad you love this story! ^^_

_teamBLAZE: yeah, I guess there are many more of us out there..._

_Guest: thanks! I've corrected it! ^^_

* * *

Gwen decided to call Edward Brown's school for the contact information of his parents, who haven't yet to make any appearance at the hospital. And she received back very interesting information.

The reason why Edward's parents hadn't made any visit at all?

It was an unusual, yet not a foreign reason for Gwen.

* * *

Helena Goldman walked down the front lobby of Oakbrook General Hospital. It was filled with people wearing white coats and when she was a young girl, she thought that they were angels on earth. In a way, they were—they were saving numerous lives with one life that they had.

Yet, just like how they have different coloured scrubs under the white coat, Helena Goldman now learned that people had secrets under their skins. Even angels, too.

Her eyes fell on the figure of a man with impressively unruly golden hair. He seemed to notice that she was staring at him as he stopped on his track and stared back at her. It was then she could read the embroidery on his white coat:

Dr Neil K. Forrester, M.D., F.A.C.S.

Head of Trauma Surgery

Helena Goldman smiled slightly at him, but it fell on cold shoulder as he simply walked past through her. She wasn't offended, though. She simply took it in stride and went on with her real purpose of coming down.

She walked to the counter and asked, "Where could I find Dr Kreiss?"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, which Dr Kreiss are you referring to?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"There are two Dr Kreisses. Dr Guinevere Kreiss, our Head of Paediatrics, and Dr Renaissance Kreiss, an internist."

Helena gave an apologetic smile. "I believe it would be Dr Guinevere Kreiss."

"Would you be… Ms Goldman?"

"Yes, I am."

"Dr Guinevere Kreiss is expecting you at the Meeting Room 1. Just go to the left of this hall, you will be able to see the room near the cafeteria."

"Thank you very much."

Helena followed the instruction of the receptionist and she easily found the room. She pushed the glass door open and just as she had expected, a young brunette woman with dark purple scrubs and white coat had already been waiting for her. The name written on the lab coat read:

Dr Guinevere E. Kreiss, M.D., Ph.D., F.A.C.S.

Head of Paediatrics Surgery

"Good morning, Dr Kreiss," Helena Goldman greeted her with a professional smile—not too bright, not too dim. She took a seat across her. "I am representing the Public Relations of FBI."

Gwen drummed her fingers on the glass table, creating a rapping rhythm that filled the silence between them before she finally decided to speak. "Don't lie." She said sharply. "Why must it be you?"

Helena crossed her arms and stared directly at Gwen. "Your parents entrusted you to me, Gwen." She said, "I just wanted to make sure you're doing fine."

"So is this what Edward would be as well?" she asked, her voice slightly rising. "If his parents… died on duty—the Feds will take care of him as well?"

"In the FBI, we are one big family. Your mother was almost like a sister to me, and your father my brother." Helena explained.

Family.

That word struck a chord in Gwen. "Family? You dare talk about family?"

"They never came for any parents-teacher meeting in school, never came for Sports Day, never for a dance recital—sure, Reine had it easy because she was too young."

"It's for the country, Gwen. For the States."

"_For the States!_" she hissed, enunciating each word as if it choked on her throat. "Yes, they died as heroes for the State—nameless heroes. So, the only thing they left me with was their name. Kreiss. Sickening."

Helena took a deep breath, "You have their intelligence, that's for sure. And you have their strong sense of morals—it's just that you're expressing it in a different way."

Gwen snickered. "Don't talk to me about morals when all you do is abandoning your child back home to protect people who might not be grateful for your nameless services."

"You are very bitter about serving the country, Gwen." Helena pointed out. "Ironically, your whole family—"

"That's the whole point!" Gwen interjected in an uncharacteristic outburst of emotion. She rose from her seat in a springing motion. "The country can always look for another agent, but a child can _never_ look for another mother!"

For a moment, there was silence between them. Helena looked at the bright, gifted yet deeply wounded young woman. Twenty-three years of being her surrogate mother, yet only now she learned her true feelings.

Gwen was fighting to hold back her tears. Their father had died on the line of duty right after Reine was born. Her mother had been proud of him, and she instilled that pride in her daughters. So, she believed her father's sacrifice was noble. But when she learned that her mother had also died on the line of duty as an agent, that was it for her.

She knew she owed Helena Goldman a great deal: she basically raised both of them to be who they were today after their mother's death. And the last thing Gwen wanted to convey to this woman was that she was ungrateful, because it wasn't the truth. She just wished she could get to know her parents for a little longer. A little better.

"You were right, Gwen," Helena finally began to speak. "You lost your parents to the country. I would never know how it felt, that's for sure—and I know I wouldn't be able to replace them, no matter what I did."

Gwen averted her eyes from Helena Goldman, suddenly feeling embarrassed for bursting out the way she did.

"Is this why you became a paediatrics surgeon? To fix other broken children?"

Gwen chuckled. "Maybe." She said, "I do know how it feels to be broken as a child, if that's what you're getting at. I do, but Reine doesn't."

"Are you… fighting with Reine because of her decision?" she asked carefully. "Reine never told me about you since she entered. But that's how I found out."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Reine adored you to death, Gwen. When she was a kid, when I was alone with her, you were the only thing she would talk about. Just like how you would talk about your mother when we were alone." She said, shocking Gwen since she had never known about that. She just remembered little Reine as the little girl who would tag along behind her like her shadow when they were kids. "Then, she stopped talking about you altogether. It's one and one."

"I…"

"You are adults now, and I believe you're mature enough to settle the matter. Just let me tell you one thing," she said carefully. "Don't push away the people you're actually dear of."

* * *

Reine leaned against the door of Meeting Room 1. Despite being made of glass, it was made of textured, obscured glass so neither side of the room could see what was going on at the other side to give a sense of privacy.

She thought she was hallucinating when she heard Helena's voice as she was walking from the cafeteria. She ended up listening to most of their conversation, including the part of how 'a child could never look for another mother'; and before she knew it, she was drenched in her own tears.

She remembered the day when their mother left the house for the last time, because just like any other moment in her life, she couldn't get rid of it even though she wanted to.

Against her will, a box in her head opened, replaying her memory of that day.

* * *

_"Mommy?" Gwen called. "Where are you going?"_

_Gwen was holding my hand, while my other hand held my teddy bear's tightly._

_She turned around. Her pink hair had been knotted into a neat bun at the top of her head, secured with a stick. She wore a suit comprising of white blouse, black jacket and skirt, as well as court shoes that made that 'tap tap' sound on the floor when she was walking. She smiled with her lipstick-coated lips and she bent down to caressed Gwen's cheek. "Mommy have to go to the court, darling."_

_She then faced me. "Be good, Reine." She said, kissing the top of my head. I wondered whether some of her lipstick stuck on my hair._

_If only I knew what I know now then, it would've been the least of my concern._

_Mom never came back to the house that day. She never did any other day, too._

* * *

"…ne? Are you alright? Reine?"

Reine snapped back to the present and found Mark was peering at her, one-third curious and two-third worry. She immediately forced a smile. "Oh, hey Mark! Yes, yes I'm fine—it's just my contacts."

Mark eyed her carefully. He knew she didn't wear any contacts, but he also knew that meant she didn't want him to ask anything about it either. He smiled back at her, "Do you have a free slot for a consult, or Neil's been keeping you booked up?"

Reine tried to laugh lightly as she led Mark away from the meeting room, afraid that he would notice Gwen and Helena inside. "I could fit in one or two more, what case is this?"

Mark showed her a chart. "An elective appendectomy, nothing too serious. But the internist working on her pre-op is on maternity leave now."

And so Reine managed to steer away the conversation from personal to something more professional, dwelling into the case Mark had presented her with.

* * *

_With the Kreiss sisters' past finally unveiled,_

_we get a glimpse of Gwen's reason for detesting Reine's choice of path._

_And her reason for choosing her own path._

_Stay tuned for the next update!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

**_A/N: Helena Goldman is Reine's boss at the FBI. And if you notice, her initials are H.G. just like Harvest Goddess, since I intend for her to be in-story representation HG in the games :P_**


	13. Written Words

Reine was walking to Edward's room when she noticed that Neil was already inside, chatting with the boy. As usual, Neil didn't talk much—but he seemed to be listening intently as to what the boy had to say.

Looking at them, Reine couldn't help but to smile. Neil—using his own words—fixed Ed up, but this time he didn't only do it on the table he did it, pun intended, bedside as well. Inadvertently, Edward did Reine a favour by helping her to see the more humanly side of Neil Forrester… that Neil Forrester was someone so much more than his undeniably impressive surgical skills.

She was forced to interrupt the interaction, however, when she noticed that Neil noticed her standing behind the window. He stood up, and she immediately walked in. "Good morning, Ed," she said, then turned to Neil, "and Dr Forrester."

"I'll leave then," he said quickly.

"Actually, I wouldn't take long." Reine replied as she put on her stethoscope, "You may stay, Dr Forrester. Okay, Ed, take a deep breath…"

Reine did a quick auscultation on Ed's lungs, then his intestines—where he had sustained worst damage. She listened to the periodic gurgling sound in her ears intently before she stood up and took off her stethoscope. "It's getting better. At this rate, you can leave the hospital in two or three days."

Unsurprisingly, Ed's face paled when Reine mentioned it. Neil—who had decided to stay—cross his arms and gave the boy a stern look. "I thought we agreed about not losing?" he asked.

"Well, yeah… but…"

Ed's hand moved nervously and it hit something. That something dropped to the floor, right before Reine's feet and it proved to be Ed's treasured black notebook. The pages were opened as it hit the floor and Reine couldn't help but see the content when she was about to pick it up.

"No! Don't look!" Ed cried pleadingly as he tried desperately to reach for his book, bending over to reach it before Reine did.

Reine quickly closed it, took it and gave it to the boy. Ed snatched it from her and clutched to it against his chest. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't…"

She wanted to say she didn't see anything but she couldn't, for actually she had memorized what was written on the two pages she had seen.

Ed's face was red as tomato as he turned away from Reine. Neil put his hand into his coat pocket. "What's inside the book, Ed?" he asked.

"Nothin'…"

"Then why you're so upset when Dr Kreiss saw it?"

Ed didn't answer Neil then. At that time, Reine couldn't help but recite the words that were burning into her head.

"_The ink drops on my body… that came from your sharpened quill… bleeds_." She recited, shocking Ed.

"You said you didn't peek!" he cried out.

"Have you ever heard photographic memory, Ed?" Neil asked.

"Um, yeah."

"She has that." He said simply.

Reine, unaware of their short discussion, turned to Ed, "It sounds like a poem stanza to me."

Ed's lips trembled.

"You write poetry?" Reine asked.

Eventually, he nodded.

Her honest, spontaneous reaction was to gasp in wonder. "That's awesome!"

"Don't bluff, Dr Kreiss." Ed replied glumly.

"Hey, do I look like bluffing you?" Reine asked, her hand on her hips. "I don't like bluffing."

"They said people who writes are not… manly."

Reine flicked her finger, "I'll find man who writes well very attractive." She said.

Suddenly, Reine saw a glimpse of glimmer in the boy's eyes as he turned to her eagerly. "Really?"

"You have a girl you like?" Reine asked with a grin.

Ed's face turned red again, but this time it was embarrassment.

"…Excuse me?"

The three of them turned at the visitor. It was a girl of Ed's age, with blonde curls and slightly rosy cheeks. Reine noticed Ed's cheeks turned a slightly more obvious shade of red. The girl stepped into the room nervously. "I heard you were in hospital, Ed," she said. "I'm sorry I haven't visited earlier. I'd love to… but I couldn't."

"H… hey Cleo." He stammered.

"I… I saw your poem. The one under my desk."

"You did?"

She nodded. "There are a lot of drawings and everything—I know it's not you—but I could read it."

Edward turned his eyes away, but this Cleo girl rushed to his side and stared into his eyes. "Your poem is wonderful, Ed!" she said, "That's why I brought it here…" she reached into her bag and fished out a piece of paper. "…so that you could read it to me."

Reine gave an eye signal to Neil and he understood immediately. The two doctors slipped out from the room unnoticed, but they were watching from the distance. Edward had taken the paper from the girl, and after some moments, his lips began moving. They couldn't hear his voice, but they saw the mesmerised look at Cleo and it was enough for them.

"That girl will save him." Neil commented.

"Pardon?" Reine turned at him to see him gazing at the young pair of early teens having their first taste of 'love'. She saw the longing look in his eyes, and somehow it tugged at her like a mosquito bite; a bit of pain with long itchy and burning after-effects. She turned away from Neil and gazed at Edward and Cleo herself. "So… you have that as well back then? Your… angel of salvation?"

"No." he said, "I don't have such gift of words. I was unremarkable."

"Well, those people would be shocked if they ever see you again." Reine said. "You turn out impressive."

Neil chuckled. Looking at Edward, who found the courage to read the poem he had written to the girl he liked, Neil seemed to find a similar kind of courage inside of him. "Hey, Reine,"

"Hm?"

"When you said… my accent was cool… do you mean it?"

"Of course!" she replied almost instantly. "Have you ever listened to yourself? Oh, well, maybe you don't think too much about it… but yes, I was being completely, one hundred percent honest."

Reine felt something was poking at her sleeves. She turned and found a card, and Neil staring at her. Reine took the card, slightly puzzled and found that there was a restaurant name printed on it, complete with an address and a small map. She turned the card around and found his handwriting:

_Friday, 8 p.m._

At that moment, Reine felt her cheeks were hot. Although this might be a good opportunity to close in on him to get some information on the organ trafficking, Reine wasn't really thinking of that when she saw the card.

She looked up to Neil, who seemed to be waiting for her answer. "Is this a date?" she asked frankly.

Neil shuffled on his feet nervously. "Is that a yes? Or no?"

Reine smirked. "I happen to be free, and French sounds good." she said with a playful tone in her voice. "I'll mark it down on my agenda, Dr Forrester."

* * *

_Neil makes a move on Reine!_

_Stay tuned for the next chapter!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	14. Backstory

_hannah: hey, I'm glad to see you back! I hope the 'something' is not... unpleasant :(_

_teamBLAZE: hahaha finally he musters up the courage, huh?_

* * *

"Forrester asked you out?!"

"Shhh!" Reine frantically covered Chelsea's mouth with her hand and eyed their surroundings carefully. No one turned their heads at them—good. "If by the end of today the whole Oakbrook knows, it's your fault!"

Chelsea giggled as Reine took her hand back. "But, Reine, this _is_ something!" she said, "This is Forrester we're talking about, _Forrester_!"

Reine sighed heavily, leaning her head against her palm. "It's no big deal, Chels. Just dinner."

"Hey, c'mon girl, he gave you coffee last time and you said 'it's just coffee'. This time it's dinner you say 'it's just dinner'—the next thing he gonna end up on your bed and what are you gonna say?"

"No one is ending up on someone's bed! Gosh!" Reine said exasperatedly. "It's. Just. Dinner."

Chelsea chuckled. "If I don't know you better, I'd thought you sound… disappointed."

Reine shrugged. "Whatever."

Their friendly lunchtime chat was interrupted when they spotted a female surgeon standing right next to their table, looking down at Reine. She had unbelievably brilliant silver hair, tied into ponytails. Like Reine, her eyes were green—but they were thick olive green instead of clear emerald. Her skin was smooth, and even up close, one wouldn't be able to see a pimple, causing Reine to wonder how long she took to take care of her face. Reine glanced at her lab coat, the embroidery on the left side on her chest level went:

Dr Alicia B. Keynes, M.D., F.A.C.S.

Attending Plastic Surgeon

"So, this is the internist Forrester has the hots for, huh?" she said condescendingly. "Very ordinary."

Reine raised her eyebrow. "Who are you talking about?"

Alice leaned down a bit and peered at Reine's lab coat. "Doctor Renaissance V. Kreiss." She said slowly. "Very ordinary, aren't you?"

Reine turned her body and crossed her arms in front of Alice, looking straight into her eyes. "Look, woman, I don't know you and that's very polite just to interrupt someone's lunch break to spout off some nonsense."

Chelsea quickly joined in, "C'mon, Alice, it's time for you to sharpen your brain—not just your scalpel—'cause clearly Forrester is impressed by brains not breasts."

Alice turned sharply at Chelsea, her hands on her hips now, and she narrowed her eyes. "If I were you, I'd watch my mouth." She said.

"Ooo… so scary~" Chelsea replied in a mock fear.

"Alice?"

The three women turned at the voice and they saw Mark approaching them. He smiled amiably, "I don't know you are acquainted with Dr Kreiss."

"Acquaintance is too good of a term to describe us, Marcus Pearce." Alice snorted.

"Oh, yes, I'd be very honoured to be acquainted to such a person." Reine replied sarcastically.

Mark was still smiling despite the palpable tension. "Isn't your operation commencing in two hours?"

"Ah, yes! Thanks for reminding me! I have more important matters than attending to such lowly attendings!"

Reine rolled her eyes, "Says someone who suddenly appeared like a witch near our table."

Alice shot another sharp glare to the indignant, unmoved Reine before she scurried away from the cafeteria. Reine turned back to take another bite on her sandwich while Chelsea threw a smile at Mark who took the empty seat on their table, "Thanks for the help, Mark."

"Don't mention it," he said. "You know, Reine, you're now the it girl in the Surgery. As Guinevere's lil sister and the girl who got Neil's eyes."

Reine took a sip from her coffee. "Don't care," she said curtly. "Who's that woman?"

"Alicia Keynes, from plastics." Mark replied. "She has a crush on Neil. Chasing him from day one."

"Neil ignored her blatantly." Chelsea added. "It was good entertainment, frankly speaking."

At this, Reine managed to smile slightly. "Doesn't he ignore _everybody_?"

"Now he's not ignoring _you_." Mark said with a tiny hint of bitterness that Reine missed out.

* * *

"Hm? What is this?"

"The doctor in charge of this patient moved to a teaching position in UCLA." Felicity explained.

Reine skimmed the chart in front of her, "Mrs Schinelli, 53, stage 3 MODS." She mused, "She's on the transplant list?"

"For kidney and liver, yes."

Reine stood up and walked to the patient's room while reading the chart, now in greater detail.

"Let's see… she's originally diagnosed with cirrhosis due to alcoholism, and was put on the list after she's being cleared… oh." Reine's face darkened when she saw the piece of information. "A post-op infection, huh…"

_She isn't in a good position to receive another donation…_ she noted.

To put it plainly, Reine's job was more or less palliative in nature and preparing Mrs Schinelli's close relatives for the time of her departing.

"Any close relative?"

"Yes. A son." Felicity said almost hesitantly.

"Does he visit often?"

Felicity nodded.

However, when they finally arrived at Mrs Schinelli's room, no one was there beside an emaciated woman connected to more tubes than the fingers in her hand. The silence in the room was beaten by the steady, cold rhythm from the constantly running ECG. Reine took a closer look on Barbara Schinelli's face. It was pale with a hint of yellowing, and her hair was blondish grey, thin and flaky.

Reine took down her vitals and lingered a little while longer, trying to imagine Barbara Schinelli, alive and moving around—maybe cooking dinner for her family. She wondered what kind of family she had.

She didn't have to wonder for long when someone walked into the room. "Reine?"

She snapped back from her brief daydreaming and turned around to find Rod standing on the threshold, his hand holding a bouquet of white lilies. Reine recalled that the vase on the nightstand next to the bed had withering white lilies in it. She also remembered, during their college days, the word that had spread about Rod Braxton:

_His mother is in hospital._

"…Rod?"

* * *

Rod asked her for a drink after he changed the flowers in the vase. They bought their drinks from the vending machine on the hospital's garden, before they sat down on one of the empty benches. Reine took a black coffee this time—somehow she had gotten used to drink black coffee since Neil often gave her that after a long day of work.

"They told me there'd be a new doctor to my mom's case. Turned out to be you." He said, laughing, "I can rest easy, then."

"I didn't expect you to be Mrs Schinelli's son."

"Because of our last names, right?" Rod said. "Braxton is her maiden name."

Rod gazed to the distance before him and took a deep breath, "My grandparents told me, my mom used to be engaged with someone she really loved. That was my dad. He died in a car accident, then she left me with my grandparents after I was born. I remember her visiting once… or twice, but never since I was ten. I learned that she got married to someone else." He said, "I tracked her down when I was in college, then I found her unconscious… she reeked of alcohol. Then, after I admitted her to the hospital, they said she contracted cirrhosis thanks to her alcoholism. The rest… I guess you have it on the chart."

"Are you working here… because of this?"

Rod flashed a wide grin at her, "Pretty smart of me, right?" he said with a mock cockiness. However, soon his expression changed into one of grim. "Look, Reine, when I found her, my mother was alone. Worst of all, she was lonely. As her son, all I could do now is to stay by her."

Reine stared at Rod in disbelief. That wide grin of his, that cheeriness, that brightness…

So much to conceal a dark and cold secret.

* * *

_Rod's motive to work in the hospital is revealed!_

_and Reine gets to know her sort-of rival if she decides to vie for Neil's heart!_

_What happens next?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading, please rate and review! ^^_


	15. Timekeeping

_Hey guys, thanks for the views and reviews so far! ^^_

* * *

Although she wouldn't admit it, somewhere in her heart, she wished Friday to come like a breeze.

When it finally did, Reine walked as if she had installed brand new springs to her track shoes, and she hummed a lot. And of course, it didn't go unnoticed when she was stationed in ER.

"I reckon you look awfully cheerful today, Dr Kreiss," Georgia giggled. "I wonder what brought you happiness so!"

"Oh, really?" Reine asked back. "Well… TGIF!"

"You're not on-call today?"

"Nope."

"Lucky…" Georgia sighed. "Today I'm supposed to be on-call. Dr Forrester wouldn't be here either, so I'm rather… nervous."

Reine patted her back lightly, "C'mon, you didn't kill the patient on your solo surgery! You'll do fine!"

Georgia managed to smile at her words, "You're right, Dr Kreiss… thank you."

"I heard you're going for a date later, Dr Kreiss!" Elli said, joining into the conversation thanks to the empty ER.

Georgia gasped, "Really?"

Reine laughed awkwardly, "Guys, we're not in high school anymore, right?"

Georgia clapped her hands together. "I see! That's why you are in an awfully good mood today! You are going for a date!"

Elli winked playfully, "and, according to my sources, the guy is no stranger to us~"

Reine sighed. "News travel faster than herpes here."

Elli and Georgia laughed. "So, who is the gentleman?" Georgia asked, "Is it Dr Pearce? I reckon the two of you are quite cozy with each other."

"It's not Dr Rosencrantz, right?" Elli suddenly asked. "He seems to target every new female staff!"

Reine raised her eyebrow. "I thought you knew, Elli?"

"All my source told me was that he's working here." Elli shrugged. "Is it Mr Braxton? You were college friends, right?"

Rod Braxton. When she heard that name, Reine was immediately reminded of Barbara Schinelli, his mother. From their conversation, she knew that Rod knew they were just counting down her numbered days. She bet he also knew that second-time donor wouldn't usually be given priority on the list since many of his clients were those waiting for their transplant surgery. And the fact that she knew that he knew was painful—she couldn't offer any kind of hope, even a semblance of it, because he knew the truth.

"Dr Kreiss?" Georgia called, "Dr Kreiss!"

"Ah! Yes!" Reine snapped out.

"So it's Mr Braxton?" she asked, eyes goggling at her.

"Yes—I mean, no!"

"Aw~ so is it some kind of nostalgic love?" Elli asked.

_They totally get the wrong idea… never mind._

Their conversation was cut short by a deep sound of someone clearing his throat. Reine froze at the sight before her eyes, causing Elli and Georgia turned their backs. "Dr Forrester…" Georgia muttered, and Reine swore she could see the resident's knees buckling.

"If you have so much free time why don't you do your work?"

"Y-Yes!" Georgia replied before scurrying off his sight.

Elli, too, immediately went to her table while Reine stood still there. Neil glanced at the clock on the wall there, it just struck 5 p.m. "Seems like your shift is done, Dr Kreiss," he remarked. "See you."

Reine smiled. "See you, Dr Forrester."

Reine hurried to the locker room to gather her stuff. She didn't even say goodbye to Chelsea when they passed each other, although Chelsea just smirked knowingly at that.

_Okay, once I got back, I'll take a shower… which dress I should wear…_

Adrenaline was really rushing in her veins now.

* * *

When the clock struck six, Neil retreated to his locker to grab his shower kit. He took a quick shower at the staff's shower and changed into his suit. It was nothing too fancy, just the classic white shirt, black tie, and black suit. He would admit only to himself that he was looking forward to the dinner, although he tried to reassure himself that it was just a dinner, nothing more.

To grab less attention, Neil decided to go out through the ER. The last time he checked, there was no patient. Probably Georgia was grabbing a bite before her night shift as well. His guess was wrong, however, when he saw Georgia staring at him in disbelief when she saw her superior in suit. "You look fancy, Dr Forrester."

Neil jerked in surprise, and it even rendered him speechless.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I have an… uh… appointment."

Georgia arched her eyebrow, and that was when Elli noticed Neil as well. "Oh, something's up, doctor?" she asked.

Elli, perceptive as she was, smiled meaningfully. "Good luck with Dr Kreiss, Dr Forrester." She said, "She is a very nice woman."

Hearing that, Georgia hopped around like a rabbit and giggled. "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod"

Neil brought his hand to his forehead. Somehow his life was surrounded by chatty women.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Neil took it from his pocket and looked at the screen. "Is that Dr Kreiss?" Georgia asked in high spirits.

Neil ignored his resident and picked the call up. The person across the line, a woman, spoke up, _"Are you really ready for it with her?"_

A cold chill ran through his body. In his concealed excitement, he forgot to ask himself one thing:

Was he ready to go for a relationship?

Suddenly, they heard the loud siren of ambulance, and they could see the lights from the ER door. Neil cut the line off as Elli and Georgia rushed to the patient. A quick glance told Neil the patient suffered trauma blunt to the head as well as an open fracture in his arm. "He's not breathing!" The EMT said.

Neil took off his jacket. "Prepare Trauma Room 1."

* * *

Reine sat on the table Neil had reserved. They had agreed to meet up at the restaurant to save time since Neil's shift ended later than hers. The waiter had offered whether she would like to order something while waiting, but she decided to wait.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It was already nine.

_A traffic jam, maybe_, she thought.

* * *

Neil was washing his hand after the surgery when Georgia ran up to him, "How about your appointment, Dr Forrester?" she asked worriedly.

"Call her, doctor." Elli advised, "She would understand."

Neil glanced at the clock.

It was ten.

* * *

Her heart sank lower and lower with each minute that passed. There was no call at all. _Did he get into an accident_? She asked herself, beginning to feel paranoid. _No, that couldn't be._

If he did get into an accident, she would get a word, since she was one of the attendings in the Oakbrook Trauma Centre, and tonight was their turn of rotation for on-call in the area. Especially if the patient was the Head of Trauma Surgery himself.

"Excuse me, Miss,"

Reine turned and she saw a waiter standing next to her. "It's already time for the last order… maybe I can get you something light?"

Reine glanced at her watch.

It was ten thirty.

She sighed. "No, it's okay." She replied, "I'll see myself out."

Reine grabbed her purse and walked out from the restaurant, feeling dejected and foolish at the same time. She took a cab here, so she decided to try flagging for a cab home, too. Two or three cabs passed, but all of them were occupied.

It really wasn't her day.

Reine began walking on the raised platform. She was wearing black stilettos that she kept for special occasions since it looked great on her legs but hard to walk on. After twenty steps or so, Reine couldn't bear the burning pain on her heels anymore and decided to take them off, walking barefooted instead.

She was wearing her favourite black off-shoulder dress, complete with a set of black sapphire necklace and earrings. Her hair was arranged into a side bun-ponytail combination, with her ponytail cascaded down her right shoulder.

She pulled her hair clip hard and let her hair fell loose as the first tear left her eyes, ruining her mascara. It felt funny—an appearance she worked on for one hour could be ruined within a finger snap.

She felt foolish, for being so excited.

When she felt heat approaching her from behind, and she saw her shadow on the asphalt walkway, she ignored it. A moment later, a silver sedan stopped next to her and the window rolled down. "Reine?"

She turned her head. It was Mark.

She saw the look on his face. It was a look of pity, as if he knew she had been stood up. "Let me drive you back," he said.

It wasn't really hard to decide. Her feet were already red thanks to the rough surface of the asphalt. Mark leaned over and opened the door for her from inside. She opened it and stepped inside.

"Where's your place?"

Reine told him her address, and that was all their conversation was about.

Mark stopped at the lobby of her apartment. "Thanks…" she muttered, not looking at him. She knew she looked miserable and the last thing she wanted was to show Mark how miserable she was and for her to see his pity.

She couldn't open the door, however, and she realized it was still locked. She finally turned, "Mark, could you—"

Her speech was interrupted abruptly as he put his lips over hers. It was a quick, chaste kiss—but certainly a surprise attack.

When he pulled back, Reine touched her lips in disbelief. "I won't hurt you like he does, Reine," Mark said.

Click.

The door was unlocked.

* * *

_A mysterious call, and a surprise attack from Mark!_

_Who is the mysterious caller? What will Reine do?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	16. Elevators

_riddlefame135: hey! long time since I saw your review (and I was so glad when I read this review of yours! ^^) and yeah, I'm planning for AllenxGwen (I have a plot ready for them already .) but I wanted to experiment with some new pairings before that, I guess. As for Reine's reaction, just read on to find out!_

_teamBLAZE: HAHAHA yeah, I kinda like Mark, too! ^^_

* * *

Reine tried to play it cool. The next day, she signed in at the usual time and was punctual for her shift at the ER.

It proved to be hard to her, because on the way to ER, she passed Neil Forrester. Both of them stopped on their tracks, staring at each other. Reine didn't know what she hoped Neil would say to her now: "Sorry I didn't call"? "There was an emergency"?

She wasn't really sure.

Neil finally made the attempt to break the silence between them. "There's a chart for you. Ask Elli."

Reine nodded and walked by. When she stepped into the empty ER, Georgia immediately leapt at her like a dog finding her master.

"Hey, Georgia."

"Dr Kreiss," she said, before taking a deep breath and speaking with a speed of a recording fast-forwarded twice from normal, "There was an emergency yesterday and we were short-staffed and he had no choice Elli told him to call you but I guess he didn't because it's Dr Forrester but believe me it wasn't like he did it on purpose I think he didn't he was really looking forward to—"

"It's okay, Georgia." Reine interjected. "You don't need to cover him."

"No!" Georgia exclaimed, half-whining on Reine's apparent disinterested attitude.

"He wore a suit." Elli said, "and he was genuinely looking forward to the dinner."

Reine sighed, "Guys, c'mon—it's okay. He stood me up and I'm okay with it. ER never sleeps I know it, okay. I'm okay although he never called me. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay."

"I wouldn't say speaking in an iambic pentameter with a refrain of 'I'm okay' and repetition of 'okay' of seven times in one speech is actually _okay_."

They turned to the entrance and found Rod walking in. Reine put her hand on her forehead and sighed heavily. "Now, what? So the whole hospital knows I was being stood up? Ha. Ha. Ha." She snorted, ending her speech in a staccato, forced laughter.

Reine looked at Rod and years of close friendship (before she had to left for Quantico) let her read his expression, "Don't give me that look, Rod."

Rod grabbed her wrist, "I'm gonna borrow her for a while."

Reine frowned, "To where?"

Rod didn't answer her, but he dragged her to the nearest elevator and took her in. It was empty, and Rod hit button for the highest floor.

Reine thought he was going to bring her to the roof. But she was wrong, because as soon as the elevator was moving, Rod pressed the emergency stop button, halting it.

"The hell, Rod!" Reine said.

"Now, let it out from your system." Rod said. "He stood you up. How do you feel about it?"

"Are you doing your consults in _elevators_?" Reine asked with a look of disbelief on her face. "Even if you do, I don't need any consult!"

Rod crossed his arms and stared at her. "Just… let it out, Reine."

Reine took a deep breath and punched the metallic wall next to her. "I am not crazy. I don't need Prozac."

"No you are not." Rod assured her, "You're just broken-hearted."

That was her breaking point. She finally let herself to cry her heart out, slumping to the floor and hugged her legs fiercely just like a little girl. Rod knelt down and pulled her head into his embrace.

"He's just another guy," she sobbed, "but why I'm crying like he is the only guy alive in the world?"

Rod patted her head carefully. "It's okay... it's okay..."

* * *

Mark felt foolish for rushing things with Reine. He had thought he would take it slow—you know, the "friends to lovers" kind of scheme. But when he saw her tearful thanks to Neil's cold treatment on their first date, he couldn't take it anymore. He looked like desperate, and maybe he was:

He was desperate for Reine Kreiss.

Hitting on a girl who had just been stood up by her beau was a strategic move.

But for Mark, this wasn't just any girl: it was Reine Kreiss.

They didn't do anything more after the kiss. She didn't say anything more than 'thanks for the lift' before leaving the car. And for Mark, that was bad. It would be better if she said 'no, we can't'—at least it was a form of closure to him. Now, he felt like being hung from a tree upside down, all the blood rushing to his head and reddened his face like crazy.

_Well, at the very least she seemed to get the message._ Mark said inwardly, trying to console himself. _But what if she thought I was drunk? Or just want to console her? Oh shit._

He pressed the elevator button, and when the 'ting' sound of the elevator coming and the door was opened, he was stunned. There was Reine and Rod inside, standing on each corner of the metal big box.

Rod stepped out, "See ya, Reine, Mark."

"Oh, yeah." Mark said as he stepped in.

Reine was about to step out to when Mark finally braved himself to hold her and immediately closed the door.

"What the—"

Reine yanked his hand off her arm and punched the button for emergency stop. "Okay, fine! I get it! This is my elevator day! Now, let it out, Mark!"

"It wasn't a mistake." Mark blurted out immediately. "I wasn't trying to console you. No, I was, but that wasn't the whole point. I didn't kiss you just because you were being stood up. I kiss you because I want to kiss you and I will kiss you again right here right now because I want you and I want you to know that I meant what I said last night and that I was legally medically perfectly completely sober when I said that and that I am in love you."

Before Reine could speak up, Mark pulled her and pressed his lips against her, this time more forcefully than the last night. Reine was unsure of what to do initially—she didn't even get to close her eyes—but when she felt Mark's hands snaking to her back and the warmth from his broad chest, she couldn't help but to put her hands on his chest, as if trying to grasp the warmth that Neil Forrester had denied her of.

But she didn't kiss him back, and Mark noted this.

Mark pulled back and stared at Reine. This time, Reine didn't avert her eyes from him. "I can't, Mark." She said, "I don't want to make you a heartbroken-reliever. You are not Tylenol—and you don't deserve to be Tylenol, because you worth much, much more than that."

"I'll wait for you." Mark assured her.

"Why?"

Mark hit the button for first floor, "Some things are worth the wait, Reine," he told her as he hit the emergency stop button again, letting the elevator to move. "And for me, you are one of them."

* * *

_Mark and Rod seems to be pining on the same target!_

_How will this play out?_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

**_A/N: this chapter is inspired from a recurring theme in Grey's Anatomy, the "elevators moment" (a lot of meaningful scenes happen there). Please don't think of Reine as a sl*t (sensor for safety, not sure whether I could actually use the word in the current rating) or a flirt, because actually she is often aloof of male's perception to her. Frankly, if Mark didn't kiss her, I'm pretty sure she would miss that out too. So... what do you think... NeilxReine or MarkxReine?_**

**_As for Rod's feelings for Reine, I left it up for interpretation for now. What do you think? ^^_**


	17. Her Voice, His Memory, Their Decision

_hey guys thanks for the review! ^^ It really motivates me to keep going! ^^_

* * *

They arrived, again, at the first floor and when the door to the elevator was opened, guess who was standing on the other side.

It was none other than Neil Forrester.

Reine held her breath when she met those wine-coloured eyes, _Not another conversation in the elevator!_ She thought.

She pushed her way through, "I have to work." She said, rushing her way out from the elevator before either Mark or Neil could speak.

As she made her way to the ER, Reine repeatedly chided herself. _You're acting like a little girl, Reine Kreiss!_ She told herself, _Gosh!_

Once she got back to the ER, she met Elli, "Dr Forrester told me you have a chart for me?"

"Oh, yes! The patient from yesterday." She said, then she realized the significance of that patient and her face turned gloomy.

Reine smiled genuinely, "It's okay, Elli." She told her, extending her hand. Elli reluctantly gave her the chart and Reine read through it. There was no Post-It pasted on it, so Reine decided to see the patient in person. "Okay, I'll go to his room now."

However, when Reine finally reached the room (using elevator, no conversation—_Thank God!_ She thought), she found out that the man was currently sleeping. Not wishing to disturb his sleep, Reine walked to the nurse station and approached one of the nurses, "Good morning, Dr Kreiss!" she greeted when she noticed her.

"Hey, I want to ask about the patient in room 303?"

"Oh, yes, Dr Forrester's patient, right?" the nurse said, "Wait for a moment."

The nurse then gave her a list—a timeline—of what the procedures and the medications given to the patient. "On Dr Forrester's orders?" Reine asked out of curiosity.

"Yes."

Reine nodded. Ever since Edward Brown, Neil had been involved more and more to his patient's post-operation procedures and the follow-ups, something that she was glad to hear. She couldn't help but to smile slightly at his development.

"It's kind of new to hear Dr Forrester so involved." The nurse commented.

"Yeah. It's amazing, right?"

* * *

Reine was not the only person who could remember everything regardless of her will. Guinevere Kreiss also had the same ability, identical to her younger sister's, and she used it to her advantage as she was able to recite the American Journal of Surgery during her internship year and enabled her to form complicated diagnosis thanks to her limitless memory.

But the sisters were not the only ones, either, and memory didn't only come from what you see.

Reine didn't know about this, but Neil's first memory of her voice wasn't when they had their first conversation. It came from her first day working at Oakbrook.

He saw her walking in front of him when he was on his way to the hospital, with her hand bag in her left hand. She was listening to her iPod, apparently, because her ears were plugged by earphones, and she didn't notice his presence as she sang along with the song she was listening to: Enchanted.

He quickly identified her as a contralto—at most, mezzo soprano. She didn't have that husky voice of Taylor Swift; her voice was lighter, like butterfly kisses in his ear canal. But that impression quickly changed when she reached the chorus as her voice demonstrated its power, turning into something like listening to a contrabass being bowed—sending rich, soft vibrations into his cochlear nerves. Smooth, but definitely not weak.

_I'd spend forever wondering if you knew_

_I was enchanted to meet you_

That moment, he was enchanted by her voice without having any control over it whatsoever.

It was then she suddenly paused. She took off her earphones and she crouched down to a wailing boy. Neil stopped walking as well, watching their encounter with a slight disappointment to the interruption.

Reine asked the boy what happened, and the boy showed her his scraped knee. He saw her smile, and she took an alcohol swab as well as bandage from her bag. She swiftly cleaned the wound and put the bandage on the boy's knee.

"You know," she told the boy, "I'd like it very much if you don't need to see me."

"Huh, why?" the boy asked, slightly scared and sad.

"Well, healthy people don't need to see doctors."

"But then, you'll lose your job."

Reine laughed as she messed with the boy's head affectionately. "Maybe, but that's a good thing." She said, "some professions—like doctors and cops—are proofs that there are still bad things in this world. I don't mind losing my job, because that means the world is truly at peace."

It took Neil some moments to digest her words, the honesty in the hard truth that she told the boy in a very simple and casual manner. She then said goodbye to the boy with a reminder to walk carefully before putting back her earphones and continued singing.

Just when both of them reached the walkway up to the hospital front door, she sang just before she took her earphone off:

_This is me praying that_

_This was the very first page,_

_not where the storyline ends_

He immediately headed for the direction to the ER while she approached the front office for a quick moment before she headed to the lift opposite to his direction. He could hear the conversation between the two receptionists after she left.

"Maybe that's Dr Kreiss?"

"What's her name again?"

"Dr Renaissance Kreiss." The other person answered, "Like the era Renaissance."

_Renaissance Kreiss_, he noted inwardly before finally making his way to the ER. In his head, somehow he could imagine her singing the rest of the song—something he gained alongside his perfect audio memory.

_My thoughts will echo your name_

_until I see you again_

_These are the words I held back_

_as I was leaving too soon_

He was unsure whether he should tell her. Maybe he shouldn't, because that made him sounded creepy. But Neil Forrester would admit to himself that he was really enchanted to meet Reine Kreiss.

_I was enchanted to meet you_

* * *

Reine wasn't really the kind who could bottle up her feelings and acted like nothing happened. That was why, after lunch break (in which she told Chelsea what became of her date), she resolved to talk to Neil Forrester.

When she saw him in the ER, she looked around. He was doing some paperwork, but there was no urgent patient. She walked up to him, "We need to talk." She said straightforwardly.

Neil looked up to her and stared at her for a moment before he closed his file and stood up. "Follow me," he said.

He led her, not to the elevator, but rather the emergency staircase. He flashed his ID card in front of the lock and the light turned green before he opened the grey door and let Reine walked in first. Reine took a seat on the steps as he walked in and closed the door behind them.

"You know I'm a doctor, too, right?" she asked, "If you've told me there was a patient, I wouldn't have minded! I understand, you know? I spent hours and hours in ER to know enough that ER never rests! Why the hell didn't you call me or anything?!"

"I won't make the patient as the excuse." He replied. "I purposely didn't call you even after I was done."

"I figured that much!" Reine replied, "My question was: why?"

Neil stared at her for a moment before he looked away, at the direction of the small glass window on the door, the other source of scarce light in the room besides the dimmed light above them. "I… I think I was rushing things." he admitted. "Suddenly asking you for a dinner like that."

"Well, it was a surprising move, coming from you, indeed." Reine admitted, regaining some of her composure after the good venting. "But I was really glad, Forrester. And I was looking forward to it."

"I know." He said, "And I'm sorry."

Reine sighed, "I don't want to rush things as well." She said, "I mean… we started as colleagues. Let's be friends."

Neil turned at her in disbelief and found Reine was stretching her arm to him. It was a sign of forgiveness: alpha and omega at the same time.

Neil took her hand and shook it firmly. "Friends."

* * *

_So Neil and Reine settle on becoming "friends"..._

_Stay tuned to find out next! ^^_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

**_A/N: Hey guys, I just want to tell you that considering the nature of this story (surgeons PLUS agent), I want to say that death is lurking, even to our main cast. I MIGHT (I am not sure yet at this moment) plan some characters to be killed off, NOT because I don't like them but simply because for the plot. Please don't think of me badly if I happen to kill the character you like. :( Like, referring to Grey's Anatomy. Shonda Rhimes loves Lexie Grey but she has to *spoiler alert* kill her off because of contracts... so yeah... consider this a head warning?_**


	18. Old Scar That Still Burns

_teamBLAZE: I still have a bit of holiday left! So, yeah... and as for the chara-death, I just hope I won't need to kill anybody off now ^^" (and yeah, feel free to mourn. if you like the chara, especially the OCs, means that I've done my job well :P)_

* * *

A blonde woman with a beanie cap walked into the FBI office that morning. She walked to the front office, "_Medico_," she said in a low voice.

The receptionist took a careful look at her and she stood up, "Please proceed this way," she said, extending her arm to her right. The blonde nodded and walked to the elevator. She pressed a button and stood silently inside the metal box, entertaining her ears with the subtle sound of the cables working outside that box.

After some moments, the door was opened and she headed directly to the separate, private office across the big room. Another woman had waited inside, smiling, "Nice hair," she complimented.

"And that's the first thing you're going to tell me?" the visitor asked back, pulling off her beanie cap that proved to be a part of her blonde wig, unrevealing her pink hair. "So what happened, Helena?" Reine glanced at the nameplate and noticed the change in the subtitle. "Congrats for the promotion, by the way."

Helena laughed softly. "Thanks, dear," she said. "Now, you're officially transferred to the new Medical Crime Unit."

"That's it, Ma'am?" Reine asked sceptically. "I believe if it's just a matter of transfer you won't bother to ask me to come down here."

Again, the older woman laughed. "You're really smart." She pulled her drawer, taking out a small piece of paper and a pen, then she wrote something on it before handing it to Reine. Reine took a glance of the paper.

"That's the security key for the database." Helena said, this time grimly. "Codenamed: ASCLEPIUS."

Reine smirked, "Reminds me of someone."

Helena leaned forward, her eyes glimmering with interest, "Oh, who? A boyfriend-to-be?"

"Nah. Just a… friend."

"A friend." Helena repeated while nodding meaningfully, clearly not buying it.

Reine carefully noted the password and stored the combination of sixteen letters and digits inside of her head—in a separate box.

"You're trusting that to me because I have photographic memory?" Reine asked as she reached for a nearby lighter and burned the paper.

"Partly," she replied affirmatively, "other part of it because you're the second-in-command of the new unit."

Reine gasped. "I never knew that!"

"Now you do." Helena said calmly, "Congratulations, Special Agent Renaissance Kreiss."

Reine took a deep breath, "Thank you, Ma'am." She said. "Where do I report?"

"You can go to the hospital now."

"Excuse me?"

"The Unit Chief is on the field himself as well. He'll be out for quite some time, I think." Helena said. "So you won't find him here."

"Oh, alright."

Helena smiled, "I'm sure you will find him once you're done with this mission."

"I see…"

* * *

Allen Rosencrantz wasn't a believer in "love at first sight". He did believe, however, that attraction—sexual or not—was the instantaneous spark that burst to your brain to command your body to produce dopamine (the one that made you feel happy)—then adrenaline. The adrenaline was the guilty party in increasing the heartbeat, from whence people mistook it as a sign of love.

He didn't feel any of that when he first saw Guinevere Kreiss. When they introduced her as a fellow in paediatrician surgery, he thought that she was damn young for an attending general surgeon. She had a slender body with smooth curves, and her makeup was dominated by soft, nude colours—not daring at all.

She was cute, yes, but not exactly _sexy_.

Their first case together was on a boy whose fingers—all ten of them—were cut off by his own father (the father turned out to be psychotic). They reattached the ten fingers together in a total of four hours of operation, and when the boy regained his fingers' function—as good as new—Allen asked her out for a dinner to celebrate.

It was at this dinner Allen saw her better. She wore a modest royal blue dress, and still soft colourings for makeup—and she talked rarely at first. After two glasses of wine, however, their conversation ran more smoothly.

She loved stargazing.

She preferred dogs than cats.

Her parents met on the work, and for some reasons that made her reluctant to date her co-worker.

What struck him the most was when she leaned forward and asked him in a soft voice, "What are you fixing, Allen?"

He then asked her what she meant. She tugged the corners of her mouth into a tiny smile then replied, "We surgeons fix people… but the truth is we actually are trying to fix ourselves. Isn't that so?" she explained smoothly, "So… what are you trying to fix, Allen?"

Allen smiled and proposed a toast.

In one dinner, Guinevere Kreiss had managed to figure out his deepest self even better than his mother would.

And that was the first time Allen Rosencrantz thought of spending his life together with her.

* * *

He saw her coming. He leaned his body forward ostentatiously to the nurse on the station, and when he knew she would see it he planted a kiss on the nurse's cheek. "Thank you for the last night, it was wonderful." He said, before glancing sideways.

He heard the nurse giggled, but he wasn't really paying attention.

Gwen Kreiss didn't budge at all. She didn't even shrug.

"Allen?"

Allen quickly snapped back, "…Yes? I'm sorry?"

"I was asking how about tonight?" the nurse asked, "My place?"

Behind the nurse's back, Allen saw Gwen was walking away. "Sorry, not tonight, sweetheart." He replied. "I'll call you later."

* * *

Reine decided to stop by the Pit after work that night. She walked into the bar and she saw someone already slumping on the bar table, his hand gripping an almost-empty glass while he was practically kissing the table. Reine walked over to Kai, about to place her order, when she noticed that the drunk was no stranger.

"Rosencrantz?" Reine called in disbelief.

"He came by a few minutes ago and started downing scotch. It's his seventh."

Reine decided to shake him up, "Hey, wake up!"

Allen slowly rose up, and his hazy eyes fell on Reine. Unsteadily, he reached out to her, placing one of his hands on her chin. "H-hey!" Reine protested.

"Why…" he asked drunkenly, "Why did you leave…?"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

Suddenly, Allen pressed his lips on Reine's. Reine quickly pushed him away and forced his head to the table once again while locking his hand behind his back, "I'm so done with surprise kisses!" she growled angrily.

"Why are you doing this to me, Gwen?!"

Hearing him mentioning Gwen's name, Reine immediately released him. "What?" she glanced at the bartender, who gave Allen a look of pity.

* * *

_"He brought many women to this place, and I saw him doing many kind of things with those chicks—hands around waist, on shoulders, kisses, making outs—but Guinevere Kreiss was the only woman he held hands with. And no making outs with her—at least not in my place."_

Having no idea where he lived, Reine Kreiss decided to bring this drunken man back to her place. Besides, she might want to talk to him.

When Allen tried to launch himself onto her again when she was about to open the door, Reine quickly went in and hauled him, throwing him onto her couch. She closed the door and went into the bathroom cabinet and took a bath towel and threw it at him. "Wash your face and sober up."

* * *

Allen chuckled to hide his embarrassment. "Sorry about this, little Kreiss."

Reine crossed her arms before him and scowled, "You better be thankful I didn't throw you on the ground, Rosencrantz. And don't call me little Kreiss."

"Then, what? Renaissance?"

"Ugh. No. Kreiss or Reine. Pick one." She said, "and… why don't you tell me about your story with Gwen?"

"I'm evoking my Miranda's rights?"

"Dammit, Rosencrantz, I'm not interrogating you!" Reine grunted. "You force-kissed me and crying out for Gwen!"

"And so?"

Reine shrugged, "If you tell me the story, maybe I wanna help?"

Allen looked at Reine more closely this time. Body-wise, she was more his type than Gwen had been. Better-endowed, with more defined curves—and he could see her toned muscles since she rolled her sleeves up. Definitely more athletic-inclined than Gwen was.

All this time, Allen has purposely been hitting on the female staff in the hospital ever since their less-than-pleasant breakup, trying to incite a reaction from Gwen. But, hell, that Guinevere Kreiss was an animated as the Ice Queen.

Maybe if it was her sister, he could get a different result.

Allen smirked. "Yeah, you would do."

* * *

_Now we get a glimpse of Allen and Gwen's past._

_What will happen next?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading! Rate and review? ^^_


	19. New Players

_teamBLAZE: yeap, the Unit Chief is older than Reine, but the identity won't be revealed until much later :P_

* * *

It didn't take long for the words to spread in the hospital. Three days, and two-third of the hospital permanent population knew that Allen Rosencrantz's newest paramour was none other than Reine Kreiss. It only took the pair to try matching their breaks in between shifts and a couple of friendly gestures and Allen's reputation took the rest in stride.

"So… now's Allen Rosencrantz?" Chelsea asked over a break. "The date—or supposed-to-be-date—with Forrester sounded like a tragedy, but Rosencrantz? Seriously? Is he that good in bed?"

Reine shrugged.

"C'mon, Reine…" Chelsea cooed. "That Casanova will break your heart even worse."

"Maybe," Reine replied in a low voice, almost a whisper, "but he knows how to do it because someone had done it to him."

"Huh?"

"Sorry, just talking to myself."

Their conversation was cut short by Mark who tapped Reine on her shoulder. "Can we talk?"

Chelsea seemed to note the expression on Mark's face. She took her tray and stood up, "I've got rounds. Bye, Reine." She said, "Talk to you later!"

Mark quickly took over Chelsea's spot and glared at Reine, "Are you figuring out your feelings by sleeping with other man? And Allen, from all other?!"

Reine shot a glare back at him, suddenly felt annoyed. "Are we in some kind of an exclusive, intimate relationship, Mark?" she asked sharply, "I'm sorry, the two time _you_ kissed me, I would say it was hardly reciprocal on my part."

The blond guy was taken aback on her blunt statement. "Look, Mark, you're a great guy, and I appreciate your feelings. But you're not my boyfriend, so even if I do sleep with Allen—you shouldn't concern yourself with that." She continued, "Well, at least by this I get another insight of you. Have you heard my part of the story about that, Mark, or you are one hundred percent sure I am sleeping with Allen?"

Having said her piece, Reine took her tray and left Mark Pearce on the table, baffled.

* * *

After shedding some of his skins, figuratively, Reine began to genuinely enjoy Allen's company. Beneath his Casanova bravado, Reine found him to be someone who could appreciate books and quietude. She knew, because as part of their plan, he always waited for her after work and spent some time at her place. He always brought a book with him so if she wasn't really in the mood to chat, he would just read on her couch until she told him she was going to bed. He was also the kind who would hold the door open for her and let her in first—the kind that would walk on the roadside on the walkway.

"You're not half-bad, you know," Reine said that night while placing his coffee in front of him.

Allen closed his book and stared at her with a smile. "Excuse me?"

"That Casanova mask was a real bullshit." Reine commented, "You should let women see this part of you."

"What part? My little part?"

Reine rolled her eyes. "Not _that_, I haven't seen that—I'm not interested to anyway—" she quickly added, much to Allen's amusement. "I was talking about the quiet part of you. You reading books."

"Me reading books?" Allen said, "What's the charm in it?"

Reine crossed her legs and leaned forward, "You don't decide the charm. The lady does." She said with a smile.

Allen laughed, before he looked like remembering something. "Hey, you've got something on with Mark?"

"Huh?"

"He was kind of pissed at me." Allen said, "I thought your last date was Neil Forrester."

"Which failed in all measure of epic." Reine added bitterly. "I'm not technically in a relationship with Mark."

"You're seeing him?"

Reine took a moment to consider her answer. "Half-seeing, I guess."

Allen nodded, "He's a great guy. A good catch."

"Better than Forrester?" she blurted. Reine immediately regretted throwing the question—but all was said and done, and Allen didn't tease her about it.

"The thing with Forrester is… I never see him with a girl. Almost positive that he was gay." He said, "I don't even know his middle name, besides the fact that it started with K."

_Just like Gwen said, very secretive. I wonder why…_

* * *

Gwen walked into the ER, surprising the staff there because:

Guinevere Kreiss rarely made a trip to the ER unless paged.No one's paged her.

Gwen immediately went towards Reine, "You slept with him?" she asked straightforwardly.

Reine turned around and crossed her arms. "I beg your pardon?" she asked in a deliberately provocative tone.

"Did you sleep with Allen Rosencrantz?" Gwen asked, this time a bit louder.

The ER was dead silent, waiting for Reine's response. Majority of them was following this new trending topic, anyway, and they were dying to know the truth.

However, Reine didn't answer her. She simply stared at her sister with a smug smile on her face. "Jealous, sis?"

A moment later, Reine's head was turned to the side and a new red marking appeared on her cheek. "You—urgh!"

"What the—"

"Dr Renaissance Kreiss." A voice interrupted Reine. Reine looked up and found Neil standing behind Gwen, "Continue your sisters' bickering outside of my ER."

As if Fate would have it, the door connecting ER to the hospital hallway was opened and Allen walked in, "Re—" he halted once he sensed the tension in the air.

_Nice timing_, he noted inwardly, then he noticed Reine's red cheek. _Must apologize to her later._

"You heard the man, Gwen." Reine said, "Let's continue this elsewhere."

Gwen turned to the door and found Allen. "Is that the way we're playing this, now?" she asked.

Before anyone could react, she suddenly pulled Neil by his coat and pressed a firm kiss on his lips. Neil was obviously shocked at the turn of events, but strangely he didn't really resist the woman.

Gwen let him go and she glanced at Allen, then Reine. "Two can play at the game, right?" she asked, before walking out from the ER, with Allen stepping aside to give her a way.

Reine's face was still red even after Gwen left, but it wasn't because of the slap she took earlier. She didn't even realize that she had been clenching her fist all the time.

* * *

_So Gwen decided for a "counter-attack"!_

_What's next?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	20. Hardness of Honesty

_I can't believe it's 20 chapters already. Many thanks to you guys who are reading this story, and those who reviews this story! Thanks for the support, guys, I just can't thank you enough! ^^_

* * *

Allen pressed some ice pack on Reine's cheek. "It seems positive now," Reine remarked playfully.

"I didn't think she would slap you," Allen said honestly, "I… I'm so sorry about this."

Reine laughed, "I think this is the first time I heard you apologizing."

"Yeah, yeah, enjoy while you can, Reine."

The curtain was slid open and Reine glared at the person standing on the other side. "Last warning: no personal argument in ER." Neil remarked coldly.

"Says someone who _kissed_ someone else a few minutes ago in ER." Reine snorted. "Surprising, grasshopper, surprising."

"_She_ kissed me."

Reine rolled her eyes. "Leave me alone." She demanded quietly.

She swore she could see Neil scowling, but frankly she didn't care at this point of time. Allen stared knowingly at her, "So… another player?"

"We'rejustfriends." Reine replied, too fast for her own good.

"Friends." Allen nodded in a suggestively slow way, "Even that is something revolutionary to hear from Forrester."

"Whatever."

Allen pressed the ice pack harder, "Ouch! It hurts!" Reine scowled. "What are you trying to do?!"

Allen grinned, "Turns out you're quite a men's lady. Maybe that's why we are great friends."

"Two mistakes." Reine replied, slapping Allen's hand from the ice pack so that she could hold it on her own. "One: I'm _not_ a men's lady. Two: We're not great friends. We're friends, not yet _great_."

"O curse of obliviousness." Allen said, mimicking the posture of someone reciting a poem with his arm stretched out to his side while putting the other hand over his chest. Reine rolled her eyes again but couldn't suppress a bit of giggle. Allen noticed that and smiled, "That's it. Smile more, Reine Kreiss." He said.

"Women look much better when they smile—the best make up ever, I'd say. Plus: it's natural."

* * *

How could they reach this point?

Ever since their mother's untimely, although not at all unpredictable, death, Gwen knew that Reine was all that she had left. In her own, childlike way, with her sparse six years worth of experience being in the business of living, Gwen tried to help Reine found her own footsteps on the metaphorical soil of life.

Initially they moved to Helena Goldman's house—as she was their godmother-turned-foster-mother. Helena lived alone, no child of her own, so all her motherly affection was showered onto them. But her work on the field prevented her to spend as much time as she would like to with the two grieving daughters, so it was up to Gwen to get a grip on her own life, despite being in such a green age to do so.

When they were girls, they were inseparable. They wore matching clothes, ate together, took showers together, shared the bed—people always thought they were identical twins if it wasn't for the difference in their hair colour. Even when Reine reached the point where her rebellious, confrontational streak was even more swollen than it had always been, it didn't stray her far away from her elder sister. Sure, there would be a few arguments here and there, and some of them were adequately charged, especially after they moved back to their old house and Helena wasn't there anymore to soothe Reine's fiery temper, but in the end the two sisters would always find their way back to each other.

It was clear to everyone around the two girls, Reine was Gwen's treasure while Gwen was Reine's voice of reason.

That was why, even to herself (and despite her pride not allowing her to openly admit that), it was devastating—to say the least—that their last argument could drive them two of them so far apart, reaching this current point where her once treasure was not so much different from a stranger to her.

These thoughts ran into Gwen's head as she walked back from the ER to the fourth floor, also known as the Paediatrics' floor. Maybe she shouldn't have slapped Reine—or kissed Forrester, for that matter—but then again, she herself wasn't really ruled by head at that moment.

Somewhere in her heart, she knew that the thought of Allen seeing Reine—her own little sister—was unbearable. It irked her for some reasons. She knew she couldn't jeer at Reine's choice of man—since she had once fallen into that very same pit… but then, did it mean that her problem took roots in Allen? That she still had feelings for that man?

If that was the case, was it fair for her to include Reine in this… affair, pun or no pun intended?

"Hi, Dr Gee!"

Gwen snapped out from her thoughts and looked down, a habit thanks to her profession. True enough, a girl stood in front of her, her head tilted upward, showing her round and brilliant blue eyes to her and an incomplete line of small teeth as she grinned widely. "Hey, sweetie," Gwen replied with a smile.

Doctors in Paediatric ward were usually called in a less-than-formal way than their counterparts, and Gwen's patients usually called her "Dr Gee". Gwen didn't know who had started it, but now that nickname stuck with her and she loved it. Only the patients who had reached their early adolescence, thinking that it was so uncool to call her in such a childish name would call her "Dr Kreiss" or "Dr Guinevere"—she didn't mind any of them. She had learned that working with children required a great deal of tolerance and flexibility—and maybe she had learned that too late when thinking of her own relationship with her little sister.

"Are you coming to Delia's room now?"

"Yes."

The little girl stretched out her hand, "Great! Let's go together!"

Gwen smiled and took her hand. Having worked with these little creatures for most of her medical career, Gwen had developed the ability to adjust the length of her steps, so that she would never leave her little companions behind when they wanted her to be around, but also that she could be there for them in godlike speed when they needed her.

When they reached Delia Hopkins' room—one of her long-term patient—the little girl, Beth, ran to her sister and climbed onto her bed. "Hey, Delia!" she said, kissing her elder sister's puffy cheek, "I miss you!"

Delia laughed softly. Although her leukaemia was eating her away slowly, Gwen noticed that she always lit up when her little sister was around. Looking at the two sisters, she smiled.

Children were honest creatures. But not all adults were.

What had happened along the way that made it harder to stay honest as you grew up?

* * *

_It seems like Gwen takes so many valuable learning point from working closely with children,_

_including the value of honesty_

_soo... stay tuned for the next update!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	21. Memories That Hurt

_riddlefame135: Mark is the main/player's character in IoH and SS ^^ not an OC. And thanks for the encouragement! ^^_

_teamBLAZE: yeah, I love the stories from Peds as well! ^^_

* * *

It had been a few weeks ever since the Kreiss sisters' confrontation at the ER. People began to suspect that Allen and Reine were not seeing each other because they didn't feel that sense of exclusivity between the two of them—the way that they would usually notice in Allen's other pursuits. Allen went off with Reine almost in every chance they had and if there were an outing to the Pit, most probably Allen and Reine would come together, sit together and leave together. However, they would sit among the crowd and never made an effort to be 'exclusive', like he would usually have done with his other female companions.

They were close, sure—just not in _that_ way.

Those words, of course, reached Gwen's ears in one way or another. She began to ask herself, whether Allen and Reine had been together; she began to remember that Reine was—in her nature—a very approachable person.

Talk to Reine for a minute, and you felt like you've been friends with her for a year; go on for another ten, and you have ended up telling her the story of your life: your most recent breakup, your first love, your latest trip, your dream job. And she would remember it all. She might not remember your voice, but she would remember every movement your lips made. Even the slightest tremor of hesitation—she would remember it. She would remember, because that's who she was.

A living time capsule.

The underlying different between herself and her little sister, she knew, was Reine's willingness to see each and every detail and commit them to her memory. Even now, Gwen couldn't be sure whether it was a boon or bane—but she knew that made the difference between them, although both of them were born as living camcorders, albeit perhaps muted.

Unlike Reine who—unbeknownst to Gwen—had chosen to compartmentalize each and every memory in her head into what she called as 'boxes', Gwen chose to filter what she saw and thus what she remembered. She learned to close her eyes—and to turn a blind eye was something she had to master to survive, or so she thought. Only now Gwen realized maybe she had been turning a blind eye for too long, that she had forgotten one cold real fact right in front of her eyes.

The person her own little sister was.

That was the first step for Gwen to uncover the truth. Naturally, she found herself asking: why did she choose to turn a blind eye on that fact—the fact that many other siblings would remember like it was carved at the back of their head without needing eidetic memory that she had been blessed, or cursed for that matter, with?

* * *

Hospitals were a collage of life. Each day, people came and went, bringing with each of them their stories. Knowingly or not, once one stepped into the building of life and death, one would leave a bit of one's story behind. Each and every bit came together and formed that collage of life—and for those more familiar with this building, they began to cultivate the skill not only to add something to this collage, but to read this collage and find it somewhere in between, something they could learn; something they could identify with; something they wanted to take away with them.

Soon, it would be the sisters' turn. Even if they could remember everything that they had seen in the world, one lifetime would never be enough to see everything in the world, and more importantly to understand them.

What does that mean?

It means that even for people like them, there would still be something new to learn each day.

* * *

Reine received a new chart from Georgia when she went to the ER that morning. Reine tried to gulp her coffee down in one go, but instead of adrenaline rush she desperately needed, she felt an imaginary hammer was banging at the back of her head as if there was no imaginary board and nail somewhere. Nevertheless, she took the chart. She read the treatment column first—a habit she had had ever since she was still a resident—before the patient's particulars. "_Thirty_ sutures on her left wrist?" Reine asked.

"Yes Ma'am." Georgia said. "It was a… suicide attempts, it seems."

Reine glanced up to the particulars. Caitlyn Jones, 29-year-old, presented with haemorrhagic shock due to the severing of right ulnar artery. "Where's she now?" Reine asked.

"Third floor, room number 11."

Reine took the chart and went to the room. Inside, Caitlyn Jones seemed to have regained consciousness from her operation. "Good afternoon, Mrs Jones, I'm Dr Kreiss who will be checking your condition."

"…they took it."

Reine moved closer to her, "I'm sorry, Mrs Jones?"

Much to Reine's surprise, suddenly the young woman went ballistic. "THEY TOOK IT!" she screamed while banging her hand on the bed railing. Reine quickly went to her side and restrained her, "Mrs Jones! Calm down!"

"THEY TOOK HIM! NOW THEY TOOK IT!" she yelled while pointing forward at an upward angle. "THAT'S MINE! MINE! THAT'S ALL I HAVE LEFT!"

The nurse seemed to have heard the commotion because one nurse came in rushing and injected some tranquilizer into her cannula, and soon the young woman slumped on Reine's arms. "They took it…" she murmured as Reine helped her to lie down.

Reine finally got the chance to see what she had been pointing at, and she felt a kick right to her heart when she saw it.

It was the American Flag.

Behind her, Gwen was watching the whole ordeal—being the one who had alerted the nurse earlier.

* * *

"The folded flag that was found with her was completely soaked in blood." The police officer said.

"Okay, I understand." Reine nodded.

"It seems to me she's in major clinical depression." Rod commented after the officer left. "This is a psych's case."

Reine closed her eyes and that scene flashed out in her mind. She was wearing a knee-length black dress, her hair tied into a bun and she wore the kind of hat with the net covering her eyes. Gwen was wearing… an identical dress and accessories. Helena arranged for that.

An officer dressed in his full uniform bent down and handed a triangularly folded flag to Gwen. Then there was a bugler playing Mom's favourite song, Amazing Grace.

Reine's head was badgered with pain as it kept playing the same thing.

The flag, folded slowly into a triangle with the stars visible.

The officer, bent down to reach Gwen.

Gwen holding the flag close to her chest.

Amazing Grace played.

Reine brought her hand to her forehead, trying to stop it from hurting. Rod then began to realize something was wrong with her, "Reine? Reine?"

Reine lost the strength of her legs, and she dropped to the floor.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, Gwen was standing over her and an IV line was attached to the back of her palm. "Where's this?" she asked.

"Your second home," Gwen replied. "ER."

"Huh?"

"You passed out." Gwen explained briefly, "You overworked yourself, so it seems."

"Oh, okay." Reine replied, "and… why are you here?"

"Because I happen to be your next-of-kin?"

Reine managed to chuckle, "Yeah, right…" she said weakly. "Sorry for bothering you."

Gwen didn't immediately answer. She folded her arms and stared at Reine. "Look, Reine, I saw Mom held the flag… when they buried Dad." She said slowly, "You were too small to remember, you were just a baby."

Reine frowned, trying to focus her gaze at her sister, and noticed that tears were fighting their way out from her eyes. "And then… I was the one holding the flag on Mom's."

_Yeah, I remember that one…_ Reine noted inwardly.

"I don't want you holding any flag on any funeral." She said, "That's why I turned the offer down."

Reine let silence took over for a moment as she gathered her strength, just enough so she could sit on the bed. She propped herself up when she felt she was strong enough to do it, and Gwen came to help her and fixed the pillow so that she could lean on it. "Look, Gwen, Mom's death was ruled as LODD. She was working on a case." She said, "If someone's not continuing her work, Mom's death would be counted at one of those pointless deaths, alongside the list of the innocent victims we could have avoided."

"We lost our parents, and I honour them by… doing what I'm doing." She said, "Just like how you honour them by doing what you're doing."

Gwen nodded. "I know." She said, "Just… don't die before me. Receiving one flag is enough."

Gwen reached out to Reine and pulled her for an embrace. Reine hugged her sister back, but she knew she couldn't promise her anything, as much as she wished she could.

So a hug must suffice for now.

* * *

_Seems like finally Gwen comes clean with Reine about her reservations!_

_Stay tuned for the next chapter!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review!_

**_A/N: I would like to dedicate this chapter to all of the servicemen and women and their families, regardless of your country. I know this might not be the best out there, but I just want to let you know that I am deeply touched by the sacrifices you make for your country, even if that's not my own country. Even letting your loved one to take up arms is a sacrifice, and I guess that is even a harder sacrifice to make. Cheers._**


	22. A New Lead

_riddlefame135: sure! no problem! ^^_

_teamBLAZE: sorry I forgot to put the long form! It's Line Of Duty Death :)_

_Mew-Star-Mew: heeey welcome to this story! And I'm glad the update timing was nice for you! ^^_

_Guest: Thanks a lot for the reminder! It was nicely timed, since I was just about to shift back to the mission on hand. I didn't plan this to be as long as Dragon's Tears (then again, I didn't really think that DT would be _that_ long). Although this story talks about organ trafficking, honestly speaking, the point I want to drive even closer to home is that how each and every person in this story (and in our lives) has their own story that shapes them to be the person you see they are. I think that's more relatable to us, in a sense. I am not intending this story to be a full blown account of organ trafficking, since it would be too much. That's why I spend a great deal amount of chapter for character development. Thanks for the compliment regarding the characters' development! And I'm sorry if this story turns out to be not what you had wanted :( I hope that won't be the case, though._

* * *

Under Chelsea's suggestion as the doctor who handled her case, Reine was encouraged to take some time off from work. It was just what Reine needed—time off—although she would not really use it to rest.

For her, it was time to finally process all the raw data she had been compiling on the hospital in the five months she had been working there.

It had been long alleged that Oakbrook General was involved in an organ trafficking ring, and the agent that came before Reine had built the case around this allegation. Unfortunately, the agent was 'eliminated' before she could conduct further investigations. This unfortunate agent was—as Reine found out from the FBI database—Lyla Kreiss. This was what eventually compelled her to see this mission until the end, or just like what she had told Gwen before: it was her way to honour her mother's sacrifice.

Unlike many other crimes, the victim and perpetrator in this organ trafficking system, was not clear-cut. The donors, who usually came from Third World countries from South or South East Asia, or Africa, sometimes, was 'reimbursed' for their organs by a certain amount of money. It was an economic transactions, and although there were stories that these donors were not aware that their organs were about to be taken, there were donors who underwent the procedure willingly for some quick cash. The recipient had actually paid for the organs—another defined economic transaction—and he knew what he was doing.

However, in many cases, both parties were not really aware the long-term impact of these transactions. Many times, the donor couldn't go back to his previous life since the operation left him weaker than before, and despite the payment he received for his organ, many of these donors couldn't go back to their previous occupation since he didn't have the stamina anymore. Post-op infections were also common since the extraction was often done in substandard condition to cut cost and avoid detection. As for the recipients, there were cases that the organ turned out not to be a good match and it led to further organ failures, causing the recipient to end even worse than before the transplant. The money he had paid for this chance of second life was… wasted, to say the least.

The only 'invincible' party was the middle-man, in this case, the trafficking ring that became the one matching the potential donor and recipient. They received most of the money, and actually the sum they gave to the donor as 'reimbursement' was usually a small fraction of what they asked from the recipients. If one really wanted to ask which was black or white in this whole system—this would be the one nearest to black. Then again, some would argue that despite their underground way, they helped to reduce demand for organs by providing an 'alternative'.

Reine's mission, then, was to conduct these further investigations that her mother had not managed to complete. How far did Oakbrook General participate in this? Was it just one person, or was this conducted at the institutional level? Was there any of the top board members who was involved in this?

As the starting point, she compiled the list of patients that were on the donor transplant list but requested for discharge before they found a match in the last ten years. Granted, there were several reasons why they would ask for a discharge: spending their last days with their loved ones without needing to worry when was the next dialysis scheduled, having not enough money to fund the treatments, or simply having lost the will to live anymore. Reine found out that for the last decade, there was thirty-three of such patients, and from this batch, only ten signed the DNR—Do Not Resuscitate—form.

Reine then picked out the other twenty-three. Twelve kidneys, eight livers, three hearts and one lung—there was one case of double transplant of a kidney and a liver. These patients ranged from as young as eleven to as advanced as seventy, and looking at their medical record, they did seem to be the ones who weren't strong enough candidates to make it as priority for organs. Cancer patients, smoker, ex-alcoholic… the list went on and on about what kind of people who wouldn't be strong candidates as if they were trying to kill these unfortunates slowly and painfully.

Frankly, as cold-hearted as it might sound, it was just the same with the triage process when there was a massive accident with a lot influx of patients. Although red was the colour assigned to those with most severe injuries, doctors would usually treat those assigned as yellow—the intermediate level—simply because these people would have the highest chance to survive after treatment.

Reine remembered her first mass triage. It was a multiple car crash—a school bus collided with a truck transporting petrol. Needless to say, it created an explosion; and to make a matter worse, the collision occurred during the peak hour.

The first victim she tagged as 'red' was a schoolboy. The reason why she decided as such was that even if that schoolboy miraculously be the one in the 5% of successful operation to treat the burns and the damaged nerves all over him, he would not be able to use both his arms and legs—he would be paraplegic. To add on, his throat was burned so badly that even though he was breathing at that time, Reine couldn't be sure whether he could hold on until the hospital.

When she tagged him as 'red', she acted perfectly calm and still. But once she went back to the hospital she went to one of the darker corners and cried: she was basically playing God—deciding who got to live and who didn't. But doctors were not gods, no matter how they seemed to be. They were humans.

One week after that, just when it was announced that she had passed her internship test and was now a resident, Reine decided to leave surgery and became an internal medicine intern.

Reine sighed long as she stored that memory back into its boxes and continued reading through the data—cross-referencing the patient's information with the staff particulars when needed. She noticed some interesting facts that she didn't get while talking to the staff:

Felicity used to be a surgical nurse before transferring to Internal Medicine.

Elli was transferred from OB/GYN to Surgery.

Georgia used to be attached to Plastics before deciding for Trauma.

It was then she noticed one general trend. Out of the twenty-three cases she had isolated, nine listed the name 'Marcus Pearce' as the surgeon—either the first-assistant or the attending. That raised an alarm in her mind: during one of their conversations—and further supported by his particulars form—Reine remembered Mark told her he had been working in Oakbrook for five years after transferring during his residency.

Nine suspicious transplant case in five years?

The sound of the bell chiming broke Reine's train of thought. Reine quickly stored all the documents back and locked it in the safe in her room, as well as turning off her laptop, before rushing to the door.

Much to her surprise, Mark was standing at the other side when she opened it. He brought a paper bag with him, "Hey," he said, quite awkwardly since they hadn't been talking since their conversation in the cafeteria.

"W…what are you doing here?" Reine asked, before quickly corrected herself. "I mean, don't you have work?"

Mark shifted uneasily on his feet. "I, uh, I just wanted to drop by and check on you." He said, before smiling at her. "I'm glad to see you seem to be fine."

"Oh, of course—I mean, thanks." Reine said, "Would you like to come in?"

Reine stepped back, allowing Mark to come in. They sat down across the coffee table at Reine's small living room. Mark looked around and commented, "This is a nice place. You keep it well."

She smiled, "Thanks."

He then put the paper bag on the coffee table, "Oh, yeah, I brought some Chinese—are you fine with that? Or have you eaten?"

Truth to be told, Reine had eaten a muesli bar just before she started working on the data, and she wasn't exactly hungry, but Mark's kindness touched her that she replied: "Cool! I'll go grab some water."

With that, she went to the kitchen. She leaned on the sink, pondering, that the man sitting in front of her was now one of her top suspect list. The same man who had consoled her when she was rejected, the same man who had expressed his feelings for her, the very same man who had made his jealousy obvious (the thought of that made her heart race now)—and now he had made time for her, just to check on her. Could he be the very same person with the man she was hunting down?

Reine took a deep breath and quickly took some water before going back to the living room where Mark had been waiting. He had put the boxes on the table as well as the chopsticks. She put down the glasses and sat down, and they began to eat.

Initially, there was still a residue of tension that was more evident in Mark, and a pinch of hesitation on Reine's part, but as they were digging deeper into their fried noodle, their conversation became easier and smoother. When Reine finished hers (Mark finished a few minutes before), they had been conversing as if there was no tension or suspicion whatsoever.

They cleared the trash and Mark offered to throw it as he went out. "I probably should be back soon," he said.

"You should,"

Reine saw him to the doorstep and said, "Thanks, Mark. This is very nice of you."

Mark smiled before he nervously cleared his throat, "Listen, Reine, about my outburst… I'm sorry." He said, "You were right… I shouldn't be angry even if you're with Allen."

That moment, Reine was tempted to tell Mark the truth about Allen. But he wasn't done talking, and what came next surprised her. "Allen explained it to me—about you helping him out. And I became so embarrassed of myself."

"Oh, okay…" she said with a slight smile, "I'm glad." She took a deep breath, "To be honest, I was pissed at you then."

"Fair enough."

"But, if you ask me now… I'm a bit happy about that." She continued, "Like… you're not lying to me about your feelings."

"Why would I?"

They stared at each other for a moment, Reine was at loss of words at his frank question. She felt heat rising to her cheeks and Mark noticed her blush. Bracing himself, he leaned in and kissed her—she tasted of soya sauce, lime and a hint of garlic.

With a bag of trash in one hand, it wasn't the most romantic kiss in the world. Compared to their first and second kiss, this might be the least romantic of them.

But, this time, she kissed him back. And to him, that's all that mattered.

* * *

_Is this a new start for Mark and Reine?_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

**_A/N: forgive me for my temptation to ask this of you: given the current situation, what do you think drive Reine the most to kiss Mark back? Her attraction to his person, or his possible involvement in her case?_**


	23. Shifts and Sketches

_I'm so glad to read the varying interpretations! If I manage to get a somewhat varied take on a certain scene I wrote, I felt like I've done my job as an author! ^^ Thanks guys!_

_Guest: the pleasure is mine and thank you so much for the compliments ^^ and I hope you will enjoy Dragon's Tears when you do have the time to read it. As for your interpretation, considering the amount of info that has been given, I would say that you're not over-reading it, honestly speaking ^^_

* * *

"So, you're with Mark now?" Chelsea asked curiously.

Reine took another bite of her sandwich. "At least I'm not seeing anybody else," she replied. "I mean… I don't know about him."

Chelsea mused for a while, "I don't think he has anybody else."

"Oh, okay."

"How about Neil, though?"

Reine turned at Chelsea, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you guys almost went out." Chelsea remarked, "And despite what he did back then… I thought you guys look good together."

Reine laughed a bit. "I guess I did have a crush with him back then but now we're friends. We're cool."

Chelsea shrugged. "Friendzone, huh?" she said softly, too soft for Reine to hear.

Reine then felt her pager vibrated. She saw the screen and chuckled. "Whoops. ER never sleeps."

* * *

Reine passed by Allen at one of the junctions while running to ER. "They paged you?" she asked.

"Yeah. Burn patient, apparently."

Just when they almost reached the ER, they heard screaming. A woman's voice. No matter how many times she had heard screaming in ER, there would still be that chill running down her spine, especially when it was woman's or a child's voice. Maybe it was due to the higher pitch—she wasn't really sure.

They increased their pace. When they arrived there, they found Neil, Georgia and Elli tried to restrain the struggling patient. She was trying to scratch her own face, and when Reine saw a glimpse of it, she realized how badly mangled it was. Her skin was in the shades of red and brown, and her left cheek was pulled down to her chin. She couldn't see much more than that because she was blocked by Neil's back.

Allen went into the space that Georgia and Elli provided between them. It only took him a quick glance and he was able to conclude, "Acid burn."

"Yes. EMT had tried to rinse the acid with bi-carbonate sodium solution." Elli reported. "It's sulphuric acid."

Another nurse came rushing, "OR 2 is ready!"

* * *

Ever since Reine became Neil's 'attached' internist, it was a common sight for Reine to enter the OR to see the surgery. Besides, Reine had an adequate knowledge on general surgery, and she was much more approachable to the interns who came to watch the surgery, so they often asked her their questions. Neil was willing to bend some of the rules by turning a blind eye and deaf ear—a silent acknowledgement and trust to her skills as surgeon despite the lack of formal certification. Besides, that helped him to concentrate more on the patient.

They managed to neutralize the acid just in time to prevent the patient from losing her sight and hearing, but the acid had seeped through her epidermis and the fat layer that her face would be a total ruin, as well as her neck and shoulders that were fused together after the skin melted.

"What should we do?" Georgia asked hopelessly.

Allen glanced at Neil who seemed not to give a damn about it, although he knew better than that. "I have two options," Allen said, "One: if you want a quick remedy, I'll just do a quick grafting the replace the burned skin."

"Two: if you give me time, I'll give her a new face. I'll take a sample from her abdomen and grow the tissues to replace her face."

Allen's speciality was indeed skin grafting—but now they weren't only talking about replacing a cheek or a part of neck: it was a full face, neck and shoulders. Besides her appearance, Allen also had to work with a full team to ensure that this woman would regain her mobility on her shoulder area. It would be a long and difficult process, and there was no guarantee that it would be successful due to the scars and the inoperable tissues.

"My job is to stabilize the patient," Neil replied. "Do your job, Rosencrantz."

Allen smirked, "I had my answer then."

* * *

Since then, Allen became a recluse as he planned for the operations ahead. He had cultivated the tissues he would need, and he was planning to remove the burnt and necrotic tissues to remove as much bulges as he could, especially on the face area. He also planned the stitching pattern so that it wouldn't be too visible.

Considering that, Allen was much like a painter working on his sketch. He did, literally, as he dwelled in the pencil sketches on the possible faces that he intended to let the patient chose among.

Gwen watched him from the back. Ever since she got to know him, he had been a workaholic. Although people would think Plastics were one of the 'lighter' surgery branch, Allen took it very seriously. He could spend ten hours of planning his surgery—and he would indeed plan down to each and every stitch he needed to make. That was one of the reasons why he interested her—and a part of her was glad that he didn't change in that respect.

Gwen finally decided to make her presence known by tapping his shoulder with a can of coffee she had bought for him earlier. Allen turned with a jerk, but his face relaxed when he saw her. "Oh, it's you… hey."

Gwen gave him the coffee silently and he smiled. "Thanks, I was just thinking of grabbing one."

He took the coffee from her after putting his sketchbook on the table as Gwen leaned herself against the table across the one Allen was working on.

She stared at the sketchbook and it was enough for Allen to understand. Just like Reine—his great friend, in his words—he had a talent of understanding wordless communication.

"I've been working on several possible designs—I'll ask her to choose once she's stable." He explained, "Considering the extent of her burns, it wouldn't be too difficult to get rid of the necrotic tissues. My only worry would only be her confidence. Even I can only do so much."

There was silence until Gwen finally decided to speak. "You've done the best you could, Allen." She said, "That has to suffice."

* * *

Reine was back from another night trip to the hospital's data room. She was walking along the empty hallway of the hospital when she saw an unfamiliar figure. Visiting hours was long past—and she was sure that person was not a hospital staff.

Reine walked towards him, "Sir, visiting hour is—"

That man immediately pushed her and ran madly along the hallway. Reine didn't waste any time to stand back and give pursuit. "Hey! Stop!" she shouted.

He barged into one of the room—the room of the new burn patient—and took out a syringe from his pocket. However, Reine managed to catch up and twist his wrist before he could poke the cannula with that suspicious syringe, forcing him to drop the syringe.

Reine stepped on it, and much to her surprise, when the syringe broke, her right shoe melted with effervescence and she felt her foot was burned. Reine twisted the man's wrist even harder as she hit the nurse button.

"She is a disgrace to her family!" he roared, "She has to die!"

"Shut up!" Reine snapped, "Who are you thinking that you have the right to decide whether she gets to live or die?!"

"I am her father! She is mine!"

Just when the nurse poured into the room, Reine hit the man's back with her knee, right at the curve at his lower back, and he fell unconscious. Reine glanced at the patient—she was still unconscious. Reine took out her tourniquet and used it to restrain the man.

"Check her vitals and call the police."

* * *

Mark wrapped the bandage carefully around her foot. "Must be honour killing," he commented after Reine finished her story.

"Yeah, most probably." She said, "I'd never thought I would encounter one… I mean—this is USA."

Mark fastened the bandage carefully with the clip and said, "Tradition dies hard."

"Guess you're right." Reine said, "I'm glad she didn't _die_."

"Well, I'm glad the burn on your foot isn't severe." Mark commented, "Just don't walk around too much."

Reine shrugged. "No promises there. I live to move around." She commented, "Can you imagine me on wheelchair with a blanket covering my unmoving legs?"

Mark smiled, "Actually, no."

"Then you have your answer."

"Just… take care, Reine."

Reine smiled, "Okay. Thanks."

* * *

_How will Allen go about the treatment?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	24. Why It Matters For Him

_Again I can't thank you guys enough for the reviews! Your words really encourage me to keep writing! ^^_

_riddlefame135: hahaha yes, I would say that's because her toned body couldn't be seen since she's wearing scrubs (not body fitting) and her white coat. Even if they do see it, they would be likely to undermine her because of her gender (totally never heard the term 'girl's power')._

_Guest: Thank you for your kind compliment! Personally, I tried to be as accurate as I could afford so that the story sounds 'plausible' and 'makes sense' while making it readable to those who are not familiar with the field. I'm extremely happy that you find it understandable and enjoyable! ^^_

* * *

Allen presented the patient with the five sketches that he had managed to come up with. The patient's head and neck as wrapped thoroughly with bandages, much like a mummy (except for her hair). In addition, communication had been hard because the patient—who hadn't been identified—suffered burns around her mouth, preventing her to move her lips.

It would need a bit more time for the tissues to grow big enough for the transplant. Besides, he still needed to talk with Dunhill since he would need a large team to conduct this face transplant. He had good reasons, though.

Allen's doctoral thesis in Biochemistry included a research on the methodology to grow muscular tissues for auto-transplant purposes—a method he would employ in this particular case in conjunction with cultured epithelial autograft (growing cells for skin from the patient's own cell to be used for grafting) instead of waiting for a donor. Besides, Allen was in the process of a research on a new face transplant method—and this case would be one of his case trials if the patient agreed to it.

When Allen showed her the picture, she looked at them for a moment. Then her hand moved, and she formed a hesitant fist while raising her pinky finger. Allen immediately recognized the sign, especially when she moved her hand and touched her bandaged forehead with her index finger.

It was the sign language for 'I think…'

Allen, able to speak in and understand American Sign Language himself, replied immediately:

_What?_

Allen could hear a faint gasp. Allen offered her a grin. She paused for a moment before she proceeded to say: _These are beautiful._

_Which do you like the most?_

_I can't decide for now._

_Take your time._

They paused for a moment before finally Allen decided to ask, _What's your name?_

She slowly formed the alphabets forming her name: _Fakhra._

_I'm Dr Rosencrantz. Nice to see you._

Allen could see that she was trying to smile amidst the restriction from her injuries. _Nice to see you, doctor._

* * *

"You said you're going to perform an auto-transplant to this patient?"

"Yes," Allen replied, "That should eliminate the immune system concern. I have gathered the necessary tissues."

"A full face transplant would need a large number of personnel since we need more than one team," Dunhill said, "Besides plastic surgeons, we would need neurosurgeons, general surgeons, anaesthesiologists, scrub nurses, technicians."

"I am sure we are more than capable to go through with this." Allen insisted, "Besides, this will be an excellent learning for our interns."

Dunhill looked at the proposal on his table. "You said the patient had agreed to be your trial case for the new method?"

"Yes."

"Then, gather the team you need." Dunhill said. "You'll be the head of this project."

* * *

Allen immediately gathered the team he had envisioned in mind. He handpicked each of the personnel, including the residents he wished to employ. Alice would be the second plastic surgeon on the case, whereas Dr Ayame Nishimura would be the neurosurgeon handling the reconstruction of the nervous system for the facial expressions (apparently she had agreed to work with a lower consultation fee since she was curious to work with Allen). Mark was also in the team, and Allen offered Reine to be the internist in charge. Reine took the offer enthusiastically since this would be her first time seeing a face transplant. As an unusual gesture of trust, Neil had apparently recommended Allen his resident, Georgia—an offer Allen accepted after looking at her records—and Georgia was told that this would be a very rare learning experience even if she didn't want to pursue Plastics anymore.

Face transplant was an exhausting, extremely demanding, inter-discipline procedure, but it would be extremely rewarding, too. Big effort, big gain.

After Fakhra decided on a face, Allen gathered the team and explained the chosen sketch. He gave a very detailed explanation, especially on how to execute the sutures that he had planned to perform as part of his developed method.

"To minimise the visible scar, the sutures would be made along the hairline." Allen said, "I want you to take note of this carefully. Humans are a work of art. We are supposed to fix her, not to break her even further."

Reine was aware that this would be a high-profile case, and that Allen was a workaholic, but he had worked tirelessly for days and he was surviving on caffeine for these few days. And his exacting, uncompromising attitude throughout the meeting caused some of the plastic surgeons and residents felt intimidated.

Reine approached him after he dismissed the meeting. "Go home and sleep, Allen." She said, "It's not funny if you fell unconscious during the procedure after you plan each stitch you're going to make."

"I still have some things—"

"You want to fix her?" Reine interjected, "Fix yourself first."

* * *

Allen went home for the first time in three days and he saw her sitting on the chair facing away from him. He walked to her and tapped her shoulder and she turned with a jerk, but she beamed into a smile when he saw her. Her hands moved excitedly.

_You came home!_

Allen couldn't miss the three diagonal lines across her face, from her left temple to her right lower jaw, the lines that had pulled her lips to the side alongside her cheek, contorting her smile. She was adamant in not letting him to operate on her, but maybe after he succeeded with Fakhra and the panel accepted his method, he would finally manage to persuade her to let him remove that scar.

Allen kissed her cheek, right on her scar.

_I'm going to perform a full face transplant. I've been planning for that._

She smiled, _Yes. Dunhill sent me an email about it, telling me not to worry._

_Giselle—_

_I don't want to._ She interjected, knowing what would come next. _I am fine with this face, Allen. Besides, if you can fix many other faces because of this, _she made a gesture circling her scarred face, _It's more than enough for me. I'm proud of you._

She stood up and embraced him. Allen wrapped his arms around her and buried himself in her warmth.

If people accused him of being superficial, for placing such importance to beauty and appearance, they might do as they pleased. He didn't care.

For he knew the truth, of how scars could hurt, even after the wound was long healed.

* * *

_With a glimpse of Allen's story is being brought to light,_

_we seem to appreciate more of his passion in his chosen field and speciality, don't we?_

_Stay tuned for the next update! Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

_**A/N: Okay, like I said above, I tried to be as factual as I could with the technicalities. As far as my knowledge, the research on growing muscle cell tissues is still ongoing at the moment, so it is possible, just not yet. ^^ And the patient's name, Fakhra, is taken from a real-life acid attack victim who sadly had commited suicide two years ago.**_


	25. When You Close Your Eyes

_teamBLAZE: thanks! As for Giselle, you're close enough ^^ we will talk about that in the next chapter!_

_riddlefame135: Yes, I'll check it out! Thanks ^^_

* * *

Allen and Reine conducted the pre-op examination together at the morning of the scheduled operation. Reine read the paper her intern gave her and nodded at Allen, "Lab's cleared."

"9.50," Allen said for the third time. "Be punctual."

"Sure." Reine assured him.

"As expected from my chosen internist."

"My job is to ensure she's cleared for surgery," Reine remarked, "Do your job, Allen."

Allen was taken aback. Her words were strikingly similar to what Neil had said during Fakhra's first operation. Allen was sure that it was coincidental, but that made things sounded more… romantic?

Allen finally managed to smile. "Sure, Reine."

* * *

Since there were a lot of interns inside the OR, Reine decided to watch the operation from the gallery. Even in the gallery, there were many other surgeons: interns, residents, and even some attendings.

Of course, Neil wasn't among them.

The operation was divided into three stages: removing the damaged tissues, transplanting the muscles, and finally transplanting the new skin.

Alice headed the first part of the operation, which was removing the damaged tissues from Fakhra's face while Allen would lead the second part of the operation—the most challenging out of the three. The third part would be managed by Alice and Allen together with Allen being the one doing the suturing.

Although Reine was still pissed at Alice, and found her as an insufferable bitch, Reine admitted readily that she was a remarkable surgeon. Alice meticulously took out the damaged tissues together with Mark. The only thing that prevented her from getting the limelight was, of course, Allen's famed brilliance in the field.

Reine felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and when she turned she found an old man, probably in his fifties, with a slender build and thick, obviously well-groomed moustache. Not as well as the Christie's Belgian detective, but well enough. He wore dark purple scrubs beneath his coat, and Reine saw his nametag.

Dunhill smiled, "I believe you are Dr Reine Kreiss," he said. "I have heard much about you, and your feats in and out of the ER."

"What does it have to do with the Chief of Surgery?"

"I saw your resume." Dunhill said, "You were in your second year of your surgical residency before switching."

"Yes…?"

"I just want to let you know that if you are interested to come back, I would welcome you with open arms."

"That's a very nice offer, Chief, but no, thanks." Reine said, "I'm content doing what I'm doing."

Dunhill laughed, "I finally can see the resemblance." He said, "Sorry, of course your appearance are strikingly similar to Guinevere's, but the stories I heard about you painted a very different personality."

"Siblings don't have to be similar, do they?"

"Of course, of course," Dunhill assured her, "I just wanted to see that tiny speck of commonness."

The two of them then shifted their focus back to the operation. Most of the necrotic tissues had been successfully removed and Reine could even see the partially uncovered skull. Like the ones in horror movies, but much neater. One wouldn't be able to envision the kind of face Fakhra had chosen if one saw this now—it was not a pleasant sight at all.

One thing she learned in surgery: under a beautiful appearance that might be an ugly system supporting it. Much like how everyone had secrets they kept. Some secrets were innocent, but as you got older, the reason why they became 'secrets' would be darker and more ugly.

Once Alice and Mark concluded that there were no more necrotic tissues, they stepped back and Allen stepped in together with Ayame. Both surgeons wore surgical binoculars since they would deal with very fine details.

Reine could feel the level of excitement rose considerably, even in the gallery, when Georgia came in with the muscles Allen had grown in the lab. Allen took one of them every so carefully with his forceps and placed it accordingly before handing it to one of the residents, asking him to hold it as Allen began suturing while Ayame continuously checking on the nervous system.

If the usual Allen-style suture called 'careful', this one would be 'meticulous'. There seemed to be a brief pause between when the needle touched the tissue, and when it came out again. And in that brief moment, everyone was holding their breath. Reine did, too, because she was so used to watch the godspeed Neil-style suturing to stabilize the patient in a race against time, not such a refined suturing style with a relative luxury of time.

"He's going to take forever…" one intern commented, rather snidely, behind Reine's back. "This is getting boring."

"You can just step out, you know?" Reine snapped as she turned to face the intern. "You think you can do a better job that he does? Go ahead, replace him."

The intern's face paled considerably when he recognized Reine as an attending from her dark scrubs, "There's a reason why he's an attending and why you're an intern. If he bores you and you're not interested to learn, just shut up and step out."

The gallery was quickly filled with whispers and murmurs as Reine's scorching gaze bore into the guilty looking intern. The intern hung his head low.

"I… I'm sorry, Ma'am."

Reine rolled her eyes, "Don't apologize to me. Do what you think is right."

* * *

Neil stepped into the gallery late in night, after he was done with his shift at the ER. Reine's replacement, in his opinion, sucked. He worked like an intern—asking him for every single thing before making his own decision, while Reine was more than proud to defend her independence. Thankfully today wasn't their turn for on-call duty, so he was able to go home soon, but he was curious of how the face transplant was going.

The gallery was mostly empty. Mostly. He saw one figure sitting down near at the corner, and her hair easily gave her away. Neil approached her, and she didn't move at all. She didn't turn to greet him like she would usually do. When he stood next to her, he noticed why: she was sleeping.

She could sleep while still perfectly sitting down, her arms crossed on her stomach and her right leg crossed on her left. One would think that she was in deep thought. Neil chuckled lightly.

It was then he noticed that she wasn't wearing her coat, since she might be called into the OR if the need arose. Neil glanced to the glass window, Allen was engrossed in attaching another muscle with the help of one resident while Ayame had switched with another neurosurgeon.

The operation seemed to be going well, as he had expected from Allen Rosencrantz. Neil took off his coat and draped it over Reine's shoulders and left the gallery without saying any word.

* * *

The operation took thirty hours and forty eight minutes in total, and Reine urged Allen to catch _a lot_ of sleep before conducting the post-operation procedure, promising him that she would watch the patient in the recovery room.

As for Neil's coat, Reine didn't know about it because it dropped to the floor later that night when Reine made a slight movement in her sleep. Then, an intern came into the gallery early in the morning and picked the coat up and woke Reine up, but not telling her about the coat at all because the intern knew—from the embroidery—that it wasn't Reine's. It was the intern who gave Neil the coat back, and Neil—having heard about Mark and Reine's budding relationship—thought that it was because Reine wanted to put some distance between them now, so he didn't approach her about it at all.

Besides, it was just a coat.

* * *

Five days after the operation, and finally it was time to open the bandage and found out whether this procedure was a success or failure. Allen, Alice, Mark, Ayame, and Reine watched nervously as the nurse began to unwrap Fakhra's face. Slowly, the new skin began to emerge. It was still swollen, but it was to be expected.

"Can you open your mouth, Fakhra?" Allen asked.

She moved her lower lip, and her mouth open slightly. Alice leaned over and touched Fakhra's cheek "It's the swelling. It should be fine."

"Try smiling." Ayame said.

Fakhra tried to smile, but her smile crooked to the left. "It feels numb," she said while tapping her right cheek.

Ayame nodded understandingly, "It should be better with physiotherapy. I will arrange the sessions."

"Other than that," the neurosurgeon turned and smiled at Allen. "This operation is a success, Dr Rosencrantz. Let me congratulate you."

Allen was so nervous that he had shed his usual confidence. When he heard Ayame's words, Reine could hear a faint sigh of relief as he smiled. "Of course it would," he said, trying to keep up his confidence in front of his patient. "You could expect no less from someone of my calibre, couldn't you?"

* * *

_Allen was successful in pulling off the operation!_

_And Reine may never learn about the coat._

_What's next?_

_Stay tuned for the next update!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	26. Action That Speaks

When Mark and Reine were enjoying their lunch together, they heard one of the interns made a passionate announcement throughout the cafeteria, "It's in! It's in!"

"It made it into the journal! They named it the Rosencrantz Method!"

Mark smiled, "CMEA. Cultured Muscular and Epithelial Autograft, a.k.a. the Rosencrantz Method."

Reine laughed, "He must be proud. His hard work paid off."

"Yeah, true." Mark said. "But there's another concern."

Reine leaned in, "What?"

"You see, even if we changed her face, her name is still Fakhra, and she is still her father's daughter. Where is she going to go from here?" Mark asked, "I know that practically it's no longer our responsibility, but still…"

Reine felt a bit down when she realized his point. "You're right." She murmured. An idea crossed her mind, and her eyes lit up. "I need to make a call!" she said before dashing off from the cafeteria.

* * *

They came in when Reine was conducting a regular examination on Fakhra. Understandably, Fakhra was distressed when she saw the three strangers, two males, coming in. Reine immediately calmed her down, "It's okay, Fakhra. I'm here." She said, "They won't hurt you, I promise."

"Who are you? Who are you?"

Helena and her companions flashed their golden badges. "I am Helena Goldman with the FBI." She said, "I received a call about your situation and came here to propose something."

Reine closed the curtain and the door as Helena continued speaking. "Have you ever heard Witness Protection Program?"

Fakhra shook her head hesitantly. "It is a program to protect crucial witnesses from retribution by giving them a completely new identity." Helena explained, "If you agree to press charges against your father, I can put you into the program."

Fakhra seemed to be hesitant, and Reine decided to come in. "If you go home, you'll die, and all the hard work Dr Rosencrantz and his team had put up is gone to dust. You wasted it." She said, "but if you agree to this… you can save those women we don't know. You can have that power, Fakhra, no matter what your father tried to persuade you."

There was silence as Fakhra tried to digest Reine's words. She cleared her throat.

"I am an interpreter for the Deaf." Fakhra began to speak, "my father decided that this job caused me to be a whore, because of the contact to many males that he deemed to be inappropriate. So, he poured that acid as a disciplinary action."

Reine nodded, encouraging her to continue. "I… I don't want to press charges against him," she said, "I can't."

Helena sighed, "I understand." She said, before pulling out a business card from her purse, "If you change your mind, just call this number."

"Yes, I will."

* * *

Reine was walking down the hallway—after another trip to the record room—when she noticed that Allen was talking to someone unfamiliar. What's more, Allen's conversation partner was clad in Army uniform.

Reine stopped on her track just when their conversation ended. Allen turned and saw Reine, and he waved his hand. Reine walked over to him. "What's going on?" she asked half-jokingly, "You got martial-courted?"

"Quite the opposite." Allen replied with a smile, "After hearing my work, the Army offered me to go to Afghanistan."

"WHAT?!"

* * *

The news of Allen being offered to serve in Afghanistan spread virally throughout the hospital even before noon, apparently because one nurse had overheard Allen's conversation with Reine and told her colleagues.

It finally reached Gwen's ear, and when she passed Allen on the hallway, she couldn't hold herself from asking, "So, you're going?"

Allen stopped and smirked at her, "Ah, you _do_ care." He said, satisfied.

"Don't think too highly of yourself!" Gwen retorted. "I was just… asking."

Allen said, "You have a day off tomorrow, right?" he said, "There's… something I want to let you know."

"Huhh?"

"And you'll get your answer then."

* * *

Whatever had come into her, Gwen found herself the next afternoon sitting inside Allen's car, on the passenger's seat. Although it had been two years ago since her last contact with the leather cover of this particular seat, it didn't feel all-foreign to her.

Allen had been deafeningly silent since they were in the car. Usually he would try to make some small talks here and there, but there was none of them today.

"Where are we going?" Gwen finally asked.

"She's a nice person," Allen blurted out. "She had a cochlear implant, and she understands English, but she prefers to communicate in ASL."

"Wait, wait, what's going on?"

"Just a head-up."

"Are you bringing me to your newest girlfriend?" Gwen asked immediately, her tone went up without her realizing it. Gwen snapped her safety belt, "Pull over, Allen, I'm not interested."

"No!" he insisted, "She's not!"

However, he stopped in front of an apartment. "We're here."

"I said I'm not interested." Gwen replied as she opened the door and began to walk away. Allen promptly chased her and held her by her elbow, "You asked me, during our first dinner, what I sought to fix."

Gwen turned around, this time giving Allen her full attention. "This is it, Guinevere Elizabeth Kreiss." He said, "This is my answer."

* * *

Gwen, just like any other person who met Giselle Rosencrantz for the first time, couldn't look away from her scar. They sat down on the couch with three cups of tea and a jar of cookies on the coffee table.

Giselle moved her hands. Allen sighed and translated, "She said, this is the first time I'm bringing a girl."

Gwen stared at Giselle and the woman nodded enthusiastically at her with a grin across her face. Despite the scar, Gwen could see a hint of aristocratic beauty she saw in Allen as well. Must be genetics.

"I'm Guinevere, but… Gwen is enough."

Giselle nodded and moved her hand again. Allen smiled, "She said you have a beautiful name."

Gwen smiled bashfully, "Thank you."

The conversation then went on between the three of them with Allen doubling as an interpreter for Gwen. After having dinner, Allen told Giselle that he would take Gwen home first. Giselle chuckled.

_You look cute together._

Gwen glanced at Allen, "What did she say?"

Allen cleared his throat, "She's just telling me to come back safely," he lied.

Giselle grinned mischievously before moving to give Gwen a warm hug. Gwen returned the embrace, "It's been nice meeting you, Giselle."

Giselle let her go and gave another set of signs. Allen smiled as he translated it:

_Just visit anytime you want and think of this place as your second home._

* * *

"She's my elder sister." Allen finally told her on the way back to Gwen's place. "She was twelve, and I was seven. We were having a family trip and we ventured too deep into the forest. I saw a bear, a grizzly bear, and was too stunned to move."

"When I knew it, there was blood all over her face." He recounted. "She was born deaf, and you know what she said when she regained consciousness after her operation? She said that two impaired people in a family would be too much."

"You… you never told me about that." Gwen said, "When we were going out, I mean."

"I never told any of my girlfriends about her." Allen admitted.

"Why…?" Gwen asked, although a part of her thinking that she might be better off not knowing the answer.

"I am ashamed of myself. For doing that to her." He said after a long, cold pause. "She doesn't want me to remove her scar, even after all the researches I did."

Gwen sighed long, "I think I can understand that."

"Tell me, Gwen, if you really know." Allen pleaded, his voice uncharacteristically weak and hopeless.

For a moment, Gwen thought about Reine, and how her own scar had shaped Reine's conviction in following their mother's footsteps.

"That scar gives you a purpose in life, and Giselle knows that." She said, "You learn from the scars left on your elder sister. Some scars… are better left alone."

Gwen heard him sighing heavily, and finally decided to ask, "Then, why now? Why did you introduce me to her now?"

The car stopped at the traffic light and Gwen glanced aside. She saw Allen leaning against the headrest, his eyes gazing far into the distance, beyond the trail of taillights in front of them. "I don't know, Guinevere Elizabeth…" he said, "maybe I just decided to be honest with you while I could…? I don't know…"

The rest of the journey was passed in silence, and when they finally reached Gwen's place, Allen walked her right to her doorstep like he had done when they were still together. There was still no word between them.

Finally, Allen decided to break the silence. "Thank you for coming with me," he said. "Good night."

Allen turned around and finally Gwen mustered up enough courage to say, "When you come back from Afghanistan,"

Allen stopped abruptly, but he didn't turn around. He knew Gwen would understand why he would decide to go there to train the Afghan plastic surgeons to treat acid burns once she met Giselle. And he wouldn't lie to himself and deny that happiness when noticing that instead of 'if', Gwen used a more definite 'when'.

"Teach me ASL." She said, completing her sentence.

Allen still didn't turn back, but he smiled. He raised his hand and waved at Gwen as he walked away.

Actions do speak louder than words.

* * *

_With Allen decided to go to Afghanistan, will his relationship and Gwen end?_

_Or is it a new start for them, as now Gwen see the more vulnerable side of Allen?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading!_

_Please rate and review! ^^_


	27. Countdown

_teamBLAZE: she's an OC. Allen does mentions of having a sister if you married him, but I'm not sure whether it's elder or younger._

* * *

It had been five months since Allen's departure to Afghanistan. Juggling her work as doctor and agent, Reine had been trying to keep a close tab on Mark to do a more throughout background check. After checking the current patient list, there was ten patients currently waiting on the transplant list, and none was supervised under him, so Reine wasn't really in a rush although she still kept a close eye on the ten of these patients. Just in case.

During her current round, Reine was scheduled to check on Mrs Schinelli, Rod's mother. There was nothing big to be expected from her condition, and from the note she had received, her previous doctor had made the suggestion to Rod to turn off her life support, but Rod hadn't made any decision yet.

Finally, today Reine tried to talk to him again. She asked him for a walk to the garden, "Rod, I'm talking as your mother's doctor now."

"Must be about the life support." Rod said immediately.

Reine was taken aback, but she quickly picked her up. "Yes." She replied, "I don't need you to make an immediate decision, and you're aware of the situation. I just want to remind you that… it is an alternative."

"Of course," he said glumly, "Thank you, Reine."

* * *

"So… you've been Skype-ing with Allen?" Gwen asked, trying too hard to conceal her interest, during their first lunch together as sisters at the cafeteria.

"Yeah." Reine replied, carefully observing her sister.

"So… how's he been doing?"

"Why don't you call him yourself?" Reine asked back jovially, "At least an email, I think. It wouldn't hurt your fingers, you know."

Gwen looked down, then sideways, then down again. Finally she let out a faint groan.

Reine giggled. "The last time he turned on the video call—three days ago—his neck is still connected to his body."

Gwen sighed in relief and Reine smiled, "But seriously, Gwen, I think he deserves to know that you _do_ care."

It was always hard to bait a response out of a Guinevere Kreiss. But, Reine had mastered the arts to hold a conversation with such a person. Reine locked an eye contact with her sister, grinning.

They were interrupted by Reine's pager. This time, it was Reine's turn groaning. "Dammit, Forrester…"

* * *

Just like the drill, Elli briefed her the information on the patient when Reine came in running into the ER. "Andre Jackson, 22, haemorrhagic shock on arrival,"

"What happened?"

"He was crushed by a truck."

Reine saw there was a man chasing after Neil. His arms and shirt were drenched in blood, but he didn't seem to be hurt anywhere (at least he was well enough to chase Neil around). "He's his elder brother." Elli explained.

"Tell me what's going on with him! Tell me you'll save him!" his voice echoed by the walls of ER.

It was then Neil noticed Reine nearby. "Talk to her," he told the man flatly.

_Oh, so he needs me as a liaison officer, huh? Right…_

That man immediately rushed to Reine and his dark brown fingers gripped her shoulders so tightly that for a moment, she almost threw him in self-defence (only to remind herself in time that he meant no harm and that she was in the capacity of being a doctor, not an agent). Reine reached for the patient's chart and noticed that his particulars were incomplete.

"You must save my lil' brother! Promise me!"

"Sir, I need you to calm down and answer several question, to help us to help your brother."

Reine saw the man took a deep breath. "Okay, okay,"

"Do you know his blood group?"

"A+!"

"Okay, Elli, please prepare at least 500 cc of A+ blood in the OR," Reine said, before turning back to him, "Any medication allergy?"

"Not that I know of."

Reine quietly released herself from his grip and put her hand on his shoulder, "We'll do our best, Sir. I guarantee you."

It was then Neil ordered for the patient to be moved to OR 3. Reine put the chart down and joined the team to the OR. Unknowingly for them, the elder Jackson brother was watching their back, his dark brown eyes fixed on Neil's back, his face tense and menacing.

* * *

"There's so much blood…" Georgia muttered when they had properly fitted the retractor on the patient's torso. At that point, the blood had made his intestine looked like floating on a sea of red. The interns who had scrubbed in to observe the procedure craned their neck curiously.

Having scrubbed in for Neil's numerous surgery, Reine knew that Neil would be so focused on saving the patient that he wouldn't really give a damn to ask questions to the intern like many attendings did. So far, there had been a tacit agreement between them that Reine would fill that role for him.

"Where do you think the bleeding come from?" Reine asked.

"Intestinal artery?"

Reine swore she could see Neil rolling his eyes as if saying: "Duh, is that very subtle?"

In any case, she faced the intern again and asked, "Specifically? There are ileal arteries, jejunal arteries, colic arte—"

BANG!

Everyone was stunned when they heard the gunshot. Maybe except for Neil, since he was still doing what he was doing.

"Laughlin, focus." Neil said, snapping Georgia back.

"Oh, yessir!"

Reine was about to continue her sentence when the door to the OR was abruptly open. Elli turned and said, "Who are—" her words were cut off when she saw the gun in his right hand, thin smoke escaping from its barrel.

It was the elder Jackson brother.

The females in the OR screamed (except for Reine). Mark and Gwen, who happened to be watching the operation in the gallery, were also alarmed. Gwen immediately reached for the emergency button in the gallery, but she was stopped when a bullet dashed an inch away from her hand—she was timely pulled away by Mark—and the emergency button she was about to reach was blasted by the impact. She turned and saw that the shooter was practically glaring at her.

He then shifted his eyes to Neil, "You're one of them, right, doc? You despise us because we're blacks, right?"

Neil didn't look back, he simply continued working.

"I have to be sure you save my brother!"

He then shoved his way past through the interns—who basically scrammed away from him and his gun—and peered to see that Neil was holding onto a severed vein. "If you can shut that up in five seconds, I'll let ya choose someone to step out from this OR."

Georgia was shocked. Five seconds for two-inch wound? It was almost impossible.

Neil took a deep breath and he started the suturing.

"Five… four… three… two…"

Neil closed the last suturing neatly just before the countdown ended.

"You ain't half-bad." The elder Jackson said, obviously impressed. "I'm a man of my words, so pick one fella to step out."

Without wasting any moment, Neil replied, "I don't need the internist."

Reine was appalled, "I'm sure you meant 'intern', doctor," she retorted.

Neil looked up and his violet sharp eyes met Reine's green. "Dr Renaissance Victoria Kreiss, step out from my OR. Now."

Now everyone was looking at her. "I can't beli—"

"Now." Neil repeated, cutting her off mercilessly.

"Please, doctor," Georgia nudged her softly.

Reine let out a frustrated sigh as she walked to the door. _Why didn't he pick an intern?!_ She thought to herself.

When she was about to reach the door, another shot was heard and she immediately turned only to fall down because of a burning pain in her left ankle. She groaned in pain as she tried to reach for her bleeding ankle. When she accidentally rotated her feet, a new rush of pain shot through her system and she winced in pain.

"I have a new idea." The elder Jackson announced as he walked to her and grabbed her by her arm. He then dragged her so that she stood right across Neil. The elder Jackson put the tip of his gun to her neck. "She's your timer, doc." He said, "Every ten minutes, I'll shoot her, from her ankles and up, until she's dead."

"What the—"

Neil was stopped abruptly when the elder Jackson shot Reine's other ankle. Reine bit her lip hard so that she wouldn't scream, although now it felt like her feet was on fire. If the shooter didn't put his arm around her neck, she knew she would be lying on the floor now. "Talk back, one bullet. The loud alarm went off—" he motioned to the ECG screen, "—one bullet. He's dead—" he pressed the tip of the gun on Reine's temple, "—her pretty head blasted in front of you."

Everyone in the room was stunned, and for a moment it the OR turned into a still life painting.

Reine caught Neil's eye. Neither of them said anything.

"Hey, nurse! Turn the timer on!"

Elli was unsure, but when she saw the gun, she immediately pressed the timer on.

The elder Jackson stared at Neil, his mouth tugged into a cunning smile. "Your time starts now."

* * *

_Neil's speed is really being put to the test,_

_with Reine's life at stake!_

_What will happen next?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

**_I hope you don't think that I'm being racist here. Personally, I don't condone racism. But that doesn't mean it's not happening. _**


	28. Deadly Timer

_Hey guys, I was trying to be careful with my wording in the last chapter and I am so sorry if that causes confusion or unclarity instead._

_Mew-Star-Mew: hey! long time not hearing from you ^^ she has her reasons why she didn't fight back, which will be explained in this chapter._

_teamBLAZE: yeah, so sorry about the description again. I sort-of implied by saying he had dark fingers, but I guess I have to make it more obvious the next time...?_

_Guest: Thank you for the input, I have edited the last document to include some indication of her being in pain, which strangely I had missed when I first posted it. Reine's left ankle was shot to prevent her from getting out from the OR, causing her to fall down._

* * *

"Your time starts now."

Neil didn't move. He glared at the elder Jackson, but Jackson immediately pressed his gun against Reine's neck, "C'mon! Time is ticking!"

Reine gave him a small nod and Neil took a deep breath, "Laughlin. Keep up." He said before suddenly getting back to what he had been doing before, but with an increased speed. Georgia, who usually was able to keep up with Neil's speed, now was struggling.

All the interns were transfixed by the sudden acceleration of Neil's pace. However, operation was a team-centred procedure. No matter how fast Neil could finish his part, he had to compensate for the other team members who were not as fast.

The elder Jackson glanced at the timer. He smirked.

Right when ten minutes was up, another shot was heard. This time, it was Reine's right shin sideways. Reine could feel the bullet shot past through her right leg, crushing the lower part of her tibia, then entering her left and blood began to pool around her leg. She bit her lip, fighting not to scream. When she looked up all the interns were looking at her, "Your job is to… observe the operation," she said while trying to control her breathing, "not watching people get shot. So… do your job."

They were reluctant to look away. "Guys, your job." She reminded again, this time sterner while nodding at the operation table.

Another ten minutes, another shot. This time, it was further up from the previous shot, but still on her right tibia region. Again, it managed to pass through her right and entered her left leg—a condition sometimes called as 'ABC' wound (when a bullet entered the body, exited, then re-entered in one line of fire).

The moment that shot was fired, Neil stopped working just for a split moment before resuming under the same, if not increasing, speed.

Reine struggled not to scream so that the team wouldn't be distracted—and to not give Neil's auditory memory something unpleasant to remember. She glanced down, trying to get a good look on the gun being used. _9mm Browning Hi Power_, she thought, _13 rounds per magazine. He already shot five… that means max eight more?_

Reine looked around. There were too many interns, too many sensitive equipment around. There was no guarantee that she could knock him down without him accidentally firing his gun.

And it's not exactly funny if he accidentally fired it at his own brother, the one he had desperately wanted to save.

Eight more bullets, that's if it was fully loaded before his first shot. _I could make it… maybe._

Ten more minutes had passed, and the next bullet pierced Reine's right knee from sideway at an upward angle—right at where the corner where it bent. This time, it was harder for her to restrain her from screaming, but somehow she managed to do it.

Neil stopped again, but he immediately picked up relentlessly. It was getting extremely difficult to keep up with his pace, but it was understandable.

He wasn't called the Hands of Asclepius for nothing.

But as more shot piercing the internist he had tried to save earlier, the toll began to build up both physically and mentally. Despite his calm outlook, inwardly, Neil had been telling himself to keep it together.

This time, Reine was already panting and her head felt light. She knew she might enter haemorrhagic shock soon enough. Reine looked up and Neil was looking at the patient, but his hands began to slow down as the toll began to take over him both physically and mentally.

"I will save this patient."

"Duh, that's your job, Forrester." Reine quipped—she even managed a light laugh. "Do it."

"And you, Reine." He added quietly. A promise to her, a motivation for him.

Reine was taken aback, but she managed to chuckle, "Then my job is… to stay alive, huh?"

There was a heavy silence for a while, but Georgia tried to keep some optimism alive, "That's right, Dr Kreiss!"

The elder Jackson tightened his arm around Reine's neck, but not choking her yet. She glared at him threateningly. "You're tough, chick, I give you that," the elder Jackson whispered, "If you're not white, I might want you."

"You accused him being racist," Reine hissed, "but now you're the one being racist—not that I want you whatsoever."

"No talking back!" he roared as he hit Reine's cheek with the grip of his pistol hard before shooting her leg again—this time, her left knee right from the front. The suddenness of that shot, plus the head-on way it hit her knee, caused Reine almost unable to hold her scream, but she immediately bit her lip, reducing it to a sharp yelp as she hit the floor, her scrub now came in a blend of green and red—from her own blood. "Maybe I could even give you a bonus for your smart mouth!" he said while firing another shot at Reine's right thigh. Her body shuddered and bent into fetal position at the impact. She struggled to reach for her bleeding legs, trying to stop her bleeding as tears started to sneak out from her eyes.

Reine panted as she looked up at the newly-fired gun. Five more bullets. But her head now was getting heavy and her vision began to blur.

Maybe she couldn't hold on that much longer.

What would happen if she passed out now? Would he target the interns?

Reine reached out to one of the empty bullet case on the floor and grabbed it just before he yanked her back to stand. This time, he pressed the gun on her pelvis. "You know what happens if it struck this, right?"

Reine put her hand lightly over the gun, so lightly that the elder Jackson didn't notice. "I'm scared…" she whispered, only to the elder Jackson.

"Oh, finally acting like a chick, huh?" he said, smirking. "After all those tough girl mask, you're just another chick, huh?"

Reine glanced at the timer. Five more minutes to the next interval. She tried to regulate her breathing and tried to gather enough power in her remaining two limbs while ignoring the burning pain in her legs.

After five minutes, the elder Jackson proceeded to pull the trigger, this time aiming at her pelvis. However, there was no shot. He tried to pull the trigger again, but still no fire.

Reine used this opening to hit his throat as hard as she could with her elbow while throwing her whole body to him, smashing him to the empty wall behind them. She pressed him there, making sure that he was out before releasing him. Both the elder Jackson and Reine slid down the wall. He lied limp as Reine tried to roll away from him, panting in relief as the pain in her legs began to spread.

Her strategy worked. She had slid the slider slightly open when she touched the gun earlier, and she slipped the empty casing she had taken from the floor. That way, the elder Jackson caused a double-feeding to his own gun when he wanted to fire the next round—his gun unable to fully eject the bullet due to the jam she had created, giving her the opening to unleash the energy she had been building up for the last five minutes.

The interns immediately came crowding over her, trying to stop her bleeding. However, the overwhelming crowd of worried and frantic interns made it hard for Reine to breathe. "Space…" she murmured, "…space, guys…"

Georgia glanced at Neil. "I can hold up here, doctor." She assured him. "It's almost done, anyway." Neil stared at her and Georgia nodded reassuringly.

Neil put down his tools. However, at the same time the door to the OR was opened and Mark, who had been running down from the gallery the moment Reine had turned the tides, came rushing in. They rushed to her, but Mark managed to pick her up first.

Both surgeons glared at each other. "Clearly my field." Neil declared.

Reine, in her fading vision, could vaguely see Neil in front of her, but she couldn't hear what he said since her ears were still buzzing due to all the close-distance firing sound. But, she could feel Mark against her head, and his arms that were carrying her. She could feel he cradled her crushed knees very carefully, as if she was a piece of porcelain.

"I got her, Neil." Mark retorted.

Neil saw her eyes. They were hazy, unfocused—the usual brilliant green was now dim. She was drenched in sweat and blood—the bottom half of her scrubs was now practically dark red.

This was no time to argue.

Neil stepped back and walked out.

* * *

_Maybe this is the hardest operation Neil has ever faced in his entire career in trauma surgery._

_And he was left with Mark's declaration: "I got her,"_

_What will happen next?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review!_


	29. Torturing Echoes

_Hey guys, thanks for staying with this story so far. As you might've guessed, things will be harder for Reine. How so? Read on to find out!_

* * *

Neil passed Ayame on his way out from the OR. He knew Ayame was glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, but he simply ignored it. The sound of the raw gunshots filled his mind to the brim and the lack of her scream—except for the unstoppable occasional grunts—made his stomach churned even more badly.

When the elevator door was opened, Neil simply stepped in. Truth to be told, he didn't know where he was going. He just wanted to get rid of those gunshots sound—the vibration of their echo could still be felt in his ear and hollowed head. Neil covered his ears and slumped against the cold metallic wall of the elevator.

_You despise us because we're blacks, right?_

It wasn't hard for Neil to figure out that the elder Jackson had come to that conclusion because of his cold attitude when they had been in the ER. Neil knew he didn't have the best bedside manner ever, but he had never expected for that to cause _this_.

It was only then Neil realized that the elevator hadn't been moving. Neil raised his head and found the ginger blond counsellor standing near the panel, his bright blue eyes staring warmly at him.

"Police has been called." He informed, "I'm an expert in in-elevator consultation, so feel free to vent. What's being said in this box stays in this box."

Neil simply glared at him with the kind of stare that Rod would liken, in his actual expertise of dealing with children and early adolescents (the one with geriatrics didn't really apply here), to the eyes of a broken teenage boy. The kind of glare that a person who just couldn't find the words despite having a lot to say would give.

Rod squatted down, levelling himself to Neil's eye level, and offered him a friendly smile, "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't feel like it, just know that I'm fine to be a listening ear—and a companion. You've done your job, Dr Forrester—so now I'm doing mine."

Neil dropped his head back against his crossed arms that rested on his folded knees and sighed long. The longest and heaviest sigh he had ever done.

* * *

Reine's surgery, surprisingly, didn't take too long. In fact, Gwen was surprised when she saw Mark and Ayame already approached her, with the kind of injuries Reine had sustained. However, she soon learned the reason:

"We were able to treat the fractures on her tibias and patellas," Mark explained, "She's in the recovery room."

Gwen could see that Mark was absolutely distressed. She glanced at Ayame who motioned at her to a nearby couch. Mark excused himself, leaving the two female doctors alone.

"Be honest, Ayame." Gwen said.

"Listen, Guinevere," Ayame began, her dark eyes staring straight into Gwen's brilliant emerald ones. "Once she is stable, with your consent, I need to wheel her in for another surgery to save her legs."

"What's her prognosis?"

"You should know her the best, Guinevere." Ayame said. "You can go to her in the recovery room before the surgery if you want to."

* * *

It was very, very strange to see the lively Renaissance Kreiss being confined to a bed with an oxygen mask covering her face. The silence of the recovery room allowed Gwen to hear every single laboured breathing that her little sister struggled to make. It was a painful sound, to say the least, but this was the first time Gwen thanked God that Reine was a fully-trained FBI agent (she clearly had handled the situation with the professionalism of a Special Agent)—God forbids what would have happened if that wasn't the case.

When Gwen got closer, she noticed that Reine's eyes were slightly open, and they were watery. Gwen went to her side and stroke her hair carefully, "Hey…" she murmured.

Reine turned her head, and much to Gwen's surprise, she managed to grin. "Hello…"

"How're you feeling?" Gwen asked, feeling a bit downtrodden for having asked such a banal question.

Reine closed her eyes, trying to ignore the burning pain in her lower body. She chose her words carefully as she felt Gwen's hand on her head, and Gwen would have no way knowing what Reine was about to say. "…loved."

* * *

Reine's second operation was completed near midnight, with Gwen never leaving the waiting area, except for one trip to restroom after Chelsea assured her that she would run there the first thing if Ayame or Mark popped out while she was in the restroom.

"I did the best I could," Ayame said, "but we need to wait until she wakes up to see the results."

Gwen glanced at Mark, but he seemed to be unsure himself. In the end, the three doctors changed out from their scrubs and waited for Reine to regain her consciousness in her room.

Mark and Chelsea took the couch while Gwen took the chair nearest to Reine's bed. While the hospital's protocols wouldn't allow three people to be in the room after visiting hours, none of the nurses dared to ask these attendings to move, especially knowing who was the patient and what had happened to her earlier.

As for the elder Jackson, Gwen had received the word that he was currently under the police's custody. The gun wasn't registered under his name, so it proved to be more problem for him. His attorney filed the request for a psychiatric evaluation for the elder Jackson—but Gwen didn't care. Crazy or not, he had hurt her little sister. Meanwhile, the younger Jackson seemed to be on his way to recovery with the operation concluded extremely well considering the duration.

A slight groan was heard and the three of them jolted from their place and rushed to Reine's side. True enough, Reine opened her eyes soon enough and she asked, "…Why are you all here?"

Mark leaned down and kissed the crown of her head in relief, "We were so worried."

Reine didn't say anything. Instead, her face was inscrutable, like she was trying to solve something. Her eyes were fixed on her legs that were covered with the blanket.

"My legs…" she murmured.

Gwen, Mark and Chelsea were alarmed. They held their breath, waiting for Reine's next word.

"It's… painful. Like burning."

"It quite common, Reine," Mark assured her, although he didn't fully believe it himself.

"BUT I CAN'T MOVE THEM AT ALL!" she screamed hysterically before bursting into tears.

* * *

He heard that. Her hysterical scream.

He was just about to check on her, but when he heard that, he abruptly stopped on his tracks.

A nurse came up to him, "Dr Forrester?" she called uncertainly, "Is there anything I could help you with?"

"No." he replied in a low voice before turning on his heels. The gunshot was echoed in his head again, and he tried to shake himself free from its haunting grip. But it was still there, and now her scream entered his head in a crescendo, adding on to his endless inner, solitary torture. "Nothing…"

* * *

_With Reine unable to move her legs,_

_and Neil is haunted with guilt_

_how will they move on?_

_What will happen to Reine's mission in the hospital?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	30. Detour and Comeback

_"Can you imagine me on wheelchair with a blanket covering my unmoving legs?"_

_"Actually, no."_

They were laughing then. They thought of it as a joke—a good joke at that. Now, Mark didn't need to try imagining that anymore.

It had been three days since the incident. During the day, her legs would feel numb—like they were there but not _exactly_ there—and when she touched them it felt like there was a thick substance between her hand and the skin on her leg—the kind of numb that could be caused by local anaesthesia.

However, during the night, the numb would be replaced by something worse: burning pain—much more intense than the one she had felt when she had just regained consciousness from her operation since that time she was still under sedative.

Gwen and Mark took turns in keeping Reine company, and sometimes Chelsea would be there bringing them food or small refreshment. They tried to engage Reine in any sort of conversation about the things she loved: books, food, TV shows—but Reine's answer just fell short. She was clearly disinterested by any of this small talk. One example of conversation went like:

Gwen/Mark/Chelsea: "Jodi Picoult is going to publish another book!"

Reine: "Oh."

Or,

Gwen/Mark/Chelsea: "I heard there's a new café opening nearby, and their cheesecake is superb!"

Reine: "Hm."

Soon, they forced themselves to appreciate Reine's new silence. Even Gwen.

* * *

On the fourth day, a small meeting was held in a private meeting room. There was Ayame, Mark, Gwen, Chelsea and Neil. They sat around the oval table, with Ayame holding onto Reine's chart.

"It will take time, but I am optimist that she will recover." Ayame told Gwen calmly.

"How about the pain?" Chelsea asked. "She begins to show resistance to morphine. The bioelectric treatment helps during the day, but during the night…"

"How about we keep her under constant sedation?" Mark suggested, "At least through the night."

"No." Neil rejected coldly. "What if she grows dependent on it? If we keep sedating her, she won't be in a fit condition for physiotherapy."

Mark glared at Neil, "Were you there when she couldn't sleep all night long because one shot of morphine doesn't work on her anymore?!" he then rose from his seat, "You weren't—you didn't even see her at all! Whose fault do you think all of her pain is?!"

Neil gritted his teeth. "Is that why you asked me to come? So that you can vent?" he asked.

There was a tense silence in the room until Gwen finally decided to speak. "I want Mark to be off from her case."

"What?"

Gwen stared at Mark, "Don't you think there's too much emotional attachment here?" she asked, "you know the rules, Mark."

Mark didn't say anything, but he rose from his seat and left. Chelsea followed after him, and Ayame quickly concluded the meeting, leaving Gwen and Neil to be the only ones left.

"He's right," Neil admitted, "it's my fault. Why don't you just… scream and blame me?"

"Reine wouldn't blame you, you see, so I wouldn't as well."

"But—"

"She's limitlessly kind that way." Gwen assured Neil with a sad smile on her face.

* * *

Reine's head, day and night, was filled with worries where would she go after this, would she go back to her previous life, and—most importantly for her—what would happen to her mission.

Anger, disappointment, grief—all mixed into one turning into a potent concoction for depression. As she dwelled deep in thought about all these, Reine gripped the glass in her hand tightly and smashed it against the table, sending it crashing. Not just that, she crushed the remaining piece of glass in her hand, and blood started oozing out from the spaces of her finger, mixing with the water that was previously contained in the glass.

The glass shards scattered all over her table—some sinking in her cold, half-eaten soup—and over her blanket, bleeding left palm, and blank stare at the empty wall. That was the state Reine was in when Gwen entered her room after changing out from her scrubs. Gwen didn't call the nurse to treat her sister; instead, she asked for forceps, scissors, saline solution, a fresh roll of bandage and some cotton ball together with a kidney dish at the nurse station.

Gwen set the tools on the nightstand next to Reine's bed and wordlessly took Reine's injured hand and began to pick out the shards piercing her skin before washing the wounds and wrapped in neatly with the bandage. After cleaning the shards that were scattering around Reine—and she even swept the floor herself for the tiny shards on the floor—Gwen sat down again next to Reine and took the freshly bandaged hand and wrapped it with her own hand.

"You were two years old, Reine, when you first fell down and injured your leg," Gwen recounted. "Remember what you were trying to do back then? Taking a swallow chick back to its nest. You climbed the tree on our yard like a monkey, just to fall down before you could actually reach the nest."

Gwen traced her thumb lightly over Reine's hand while Reine gazed blankly at her still legs. "Remember your first worry wasn't your bleeding legs, but whether the chick was safe or not? You are always… always…"

"I know you are thinking about your… job. But you've always been running—sprinting, even—like crazy, all for others." Gwen tried to hold back her tears, "For once, Renaissance Kreiss, for once, think about yourself more. It's okay to slow down and stop and take a break. Yes, yes, we could remember everything we have see—but what can you see if you are running so fast? And what's the fun in a lonely run?"

Gwen finally put her arms around Reine and pulled her for an embrace, "It's okay, Reine… everything will be okay. Let's try this from beginning again, 'kay? Let's retrace our path together, so that we can see everything we've missed because we were running. This time, we're doing this together."

"I'll stand with you, I'll walk with you…" Gwen assured her, "…and if you have to stop, I'll stop with you."

Reine's tears melted into Gwen's embrace as she put her hand on Gwen's arm, clinging to it. For a moment, they went back to their childhood days, when Gwen was all Reine had to hang on for life. No sibling rivalries, just holding hands to take a step together.

Finally, Reine gained the courage to admit: "I'm so scared, Gwen…"

Gwen stroked Reine's pink head softly like a mother would do to her baby, her voice soft and soothing, "Shh… shh… everything will be alright…"

* * *

As the night thickened and the moon retreated into a shy escape behind the clouds, a solitary man walked confidently down the dark, empty hall. The nurse station was empty so he passed under the radar.

He stopped in front of Room 356, a single room. He opened the door and saw that the only two people inside were asleep. He studied them for a moment; Gwen was sleeping while holding onto Reine's hand, her back arched gently as she rested her head lightly against the edge of the mattress and partly her elbow. Reine was asleep, too, as the machine regulated the amount of morphine entering her body for the next six hours or so.

He walked to the cupboard and took an extra blanket from there, unfolded it and put it over Gwen. Unfortunately, that was the moment Gwen opened her eyes, although it was soon made clear to him that she was half-asleep.

"…Allen?" she called hesitantly.

He smirked and bent down, kissing the crown of her head lightly, "You're dreaming, princess," he whispered. "It's just a dream…"

"…must be so…" Gwen agreed in her half-sleep. "…why would he come back, anyway? …promise… ASL… forgotten… dumbass…"

Allen Rosencrantz smiled amusedly at the brunette who soon fell back into her sleep. He stroke her head lightly, careful as to not wake her up again.

"I didn't forget, princess," he said, "but the hero must make a timely comeback, no?"

* * *

_While the two sisters planning for a 'detour',_

_it seems like Allen has decided to make this his "timely comeback"._

_Stay tuned for the next update!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	31. What's Left Behind

Perks of being an invalid: you have the time to appreciate everything around you, and more importantly how to properly appreciate them (hint: when involving humans, it involves saying "thank you"—a lot of them).

Downside of being an invalid: you are an invalid i.e. people think that you are not capable enough to do things on your own (further explanation: especially to soft—let's say people with a delicate heart).

One learning point: graciously accepting help is a skill that is easy to get, but hard to master.

Don't get me wrong. I'm touched that Allen decided to go back here after hearing what happened to me because he believes, and I'll be directly quoting him here, I "would need the kind of entertainment only [his] calibre could provide" (I don't think I want to know what does he exactly means by that). I appreciate that they are trying to help me to adjust with my new condition and everything (as if I'm not aware of that myself), and I'm trying to follow Gwen's advice to slow down (or stop, rather) and enjoy what I have (left) now.

"The weather's outside is good." I comment while looking at the window.

"Do you want to go out to the garden?" Mark offers.

"Yeah."

Mark readily helps me to get up and carries me to the wheelchair carefully, as if I am a fragile piece of glass—frankly, I believe sometimes he thinks I _am_ one—and fixing the IV on the IV stand on the wheelchair. Since the pain in my legs will worsen if they get cold, Mark drapes a blanket over my legs before we finally set out for the garden. I can somewhat feel the difference in the temperature on my legs after the blanket is there, which means good, right? Right?

In any case, he wheels me down the hallway. I try not to look around, because I know _they _are staring at me. Studying me. Pitying me. I used to walk, and even run down this very same hall like an unstoppable wind, but now I am being wheeled down. Notice the passivity?

I sigh heavily. I have to admit I have a considerable inertia as a person.

Then I notice Felicity. The moment our eyes met (and yes, hers are looking down), she beams into a smile. "I haven't seen you for quite some time, Dr Kreiss." She says, "Taking a walk?"

"More like taking four wheels," I quip spontaneously, and when I notice the guilty look on her face I quickly add, "I mean, yeah, figuratively I am taking a walk. The weather outside's good."

"Y-Yes, it is! Very lovely," she replies awkwardly. "I… I have to go to the station."

She then mutters a quick goodbye to both of us and runs off. I hope she doesn't fall or anything although I guess, if I were her, I would rather fall than be static.

In any case, fresh air is always welcomed. Mark buys us some tea from the cafeteria and he sits down next to me. There's no word between us—these days, there never is. Maybe he thinks I don't notice it, but I know Mark has been carefully studying me, gauging my words and reactions, trying his best not to aggravate my irritation (I have to admit I can be very volatile). In short, he's been walking on eggshells around me, and that is getting on my nerves now (these days I am all about nerves, if you haven't noticed yet).

"Say something, Mark," I urge him. "How's your work?"

"Just the usual. Nothing's really interesting, I must say." He replies.

"Oh come on, I bet it's still more interesting than staring at the exact same ceiling for eighteen hours per day."

His struck look makes me quickly realize I have, just like with Felicity earlier, made the wrong move. "I—"

"Don't say you're sorry, Mark," I interject quickly. I have had heard enough sorry these past few days.

_I'm sorry to hear what have happened._

_I'm sorry about your legs._

_I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way._

_I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…_

Oh, come on. I have had my fill of 'sorry' already.

My interjection doesn't make the situation better. Rather, we fall into a rather awkward silence. It used to be so easy to converse with Mark; he will readily discuss his cases to me (indirectly helping me in keeping track of his record) over lunches or dinners.

Now, I think I can hear a stone drops to the ground thanks to this silence.

Suddenly, Mark's pager goes off. Mark takes a quick look at it. "Blue code, I have to go." He says as he pecks my cheek lightly, "I'll ask a nurse to help you get back to your room."

He leaves before I could tell him that he doesn't need to do that. I mean, why are there elevators around? Why are the handrims being fitted on the rear wheel?

I look at my legs, then an idea pops up in my mind.

I have to show him what I can do.

I remove the blanket and throw it to the bench next to me, feeling invigorated.

With some efforts (a lot, actually, but these days I have to readjust my parameters of effort), I manage to move my legs from the steps to the ground. I fold the steps and press my hand as hard as I can to the armrests, pushing my body up.

Come on, come on, come on.

Suddenly, the wheelchair slips from my hand. Shucks, I forgot to lock the wheels earlier.

As the chair rolls back, I stumble forward and hit the grassy ground, face first.

After I've had enough taste of the pain on my face, I try to bend my body and look behind. The chair isn't too far away. I force my body to turn, for the first time feeling foolish for having tried to stand up. I finally manage to grab one of the handles, but when I try to pull myself up the chair stumbles forward and falls onto me instead.

Great.

The taste of grass on my lips and the feel of cold iron on my head, slightly painful at the place where it had hit me.

I should have learned how helpless I have become without my legs.

I really should've.

Dear God, I just want to take another step. I know everything I have is Yours, but can I ask You a favour to tell me first before taking it away from me? Because, God, I want to cherish the last moment of having it. Like my legs—I wanted to cherish the last step I made, or even the last second I could stand.

Because it hurts when you don't know, you see. One moment you have it, the next moment you don't.

My tears begin to fall on the grass and I try to muffle my cry desperately that it comes out like a choked granny.

Now, even I feel sorry for myself. For being… like this.

I finally try to find another motivation. If I can't stand, at least I have to be able to get back on my wheelchair on my own.

It is then I notice the dark purple pants. I turn my head and find Neil Forrester standing a few metres away from me. He notices me too, and he rushes towards me.

No. Not him, too.

"Stop there," I told him, my voice sounds ridiculous because I'm still crying. "Can you… spare me a bit of dignity?"

He stops for a moment, but then he begins walking to my direction and I hang my head in defeat.

Guess now I won't even have my dignity.

A moment later, I can feel that the wheelchair is being lifted from me and I hear the sound of the lock being applied to the wheels. I wait for that moment to come, now, that moment of having the last piece of my dignity being ripped from me.

But it never comes.

When I raise my head, he is already sitting down on the bench next to my wheelchair, his arms crossed while his gaze is casted far away to the distance.

You may think that he is cold, uncaring, and inconsiderate jerk.

But that moment, I think of him as my early Santa Claus—bringing me the gift I want the most.

I give myself another push to get back on my wheelchair and I let out a heavy 'huff' when my butt touches the wheelchair again. I glance at him after I clear my face from the grass and tears; he is still not looking at me. His expression is dark and sombre. "I…" he trails off, "I'm—"

"Sorry?" I ask. "Well, this is indeed a sorry state to be in. I'm sorry for myself, too."

"I meant it as an apology." He clarifies himself. "I apologize."

"Apologize?" I ask back, "I don't blame you at all, Neil. I have nothing to forgive you for."

"How… how could you do that?" he asks, and now I know how real his (perceived) guilt is to him.

"Okay, let's make it easier for both of us." I tell him, "You gave me what I wanted earlier, and now you can have my forgiveness if that's really what you want. You really need to explain to me how could you be the guilty party here, though—not now, of course."

He stares at me, now more confused than guilty. Good—at least there's that change in his expression (and let me tell you: Neil's confused expression can be amusing if you can get where the humour is).

"Don't you think staring at the same ceiling for hours is kind of boring?" I tell him, "Besides, I like hearing you talk in your British accent. I love your voice. Legit."

He walks next to me while I'm wheeling myself back to my room. We stay silent, but this time it's the kind of easy silence of understanding that has somehow been established between us. He patiently waits for me when I move myself to my bed with the only assistance he offers being to move my IV back to its place next to the bed since I have tangled myself with the line in trying doing so myself.

"Thanks, Neil," I tell him, "Really."

At last, someone understands.

* * *

_Mark and Neil..._

_two different poles on the magnet._

_And where does Reine stand?_

_Stay tuned for the next update! Thanks for reading!_

**_A/N: I hope I don't confuse you with the sudden POV shift. I decided to do it because I think Reine's first-person account on this is crucial in this arc. ^^ please tell me what you think of this (I'm not so good with first-person POV so I really appreciate any comment)_**


	32. The Silver Lining

Since Reine wasn't available for handling the post-op procedure, Neil wound up having to deal with it himself, and that included the younger Jackson.

Although he was given an option that the younger Jackson would be transferred to another internist, Neil chose to follow this patient through because, although he told no one about this, the pearl of great price had been robbed from him for this black unpolished gem. So now, he had to polish it himself, no matter how painful it would be.

He conducted his examination in almost a complete silence, and he didn't even notice that the younger Jackson was scrutinizing him as Neil noted down his progression.

Finally, his patient couldn't stand the silence anymore and lashed out, "Is it because I'm black you refuse to look at me?!"

"Do you think you're still so high and mighty because you happen to be white, blonde, and a doctor—and I am no one but your patient?!"

His words sent a jolt into Neil's system. He finally broke his eyes away from the chart and stared at the patient. The elder Jackson's words echoed in his head.

_You despise us because we're blacks, right?_

Then, those gunshots.

And next up was Mark's:

_Whose fault do you think all of her pain is?!_

Before he knew it, Neil had walked out from the room and put the younger Jackson's chart on the nurse station. Those voices began to flood his head, together with the incessant sound of gunshots in regular interval and Reine's strained grunt as she tried to hold herself back from screaming.

Then, somehow, came in the laughter of his past classmates.

_Your Fatness! Your Fatness!_

_The way you talk is so funny!_

_It's 'ass' not 'arse', dumbass! You're so weird!_

Neil let out a frustrated groan as these memories began to resurface and override him. Helplessness and disgust began to reign over him when he heard _her_ voice:

_You should talk more, Neil! I love listening British accent! Sounds cool!_

_I like hearing you talk in your British accent. I love your voice. Legit._

_I don't blame you at all, Neil._

Then, the memory of her singing voice, his very first memory of her voice, sneaked in:

_This is me praying that_

_This was the very first page,_

_Not where the storyline ends_

Somehow, he had made it into her room. She was sleeping peacefully, holding a half-opened book in her left hand. Unable to hold himself back anymore—since she wasn't listening, anyway—Neil said, "Your voice is strong."

"I mean—you're not the first one come up and tell me that my accent is cool, but you are the first who makes me want to believe that. You make me wonder, if we had ever met when I was in that class, whether you would have not laughed at me back then, when I said 'arse' instead of 'ass', or when I yelled 'blimey'. You make me feel bad for altering my accent or going mute. But I am so used to it, you can laugh at that. But, Reine, your voice—there's something in your voice that fascinates me. Enchanted me. I don't know—I just… you keep telling me you want to hear me talk. I can never have enough of your voice, Reine—although I can always remember it, I just love the way your voice makes me feel. I don't know if that's the way you feel about my voice, but if it is I would be very much flattered in the way I would never admit if you're—"

And that was the moment Neil realized a pair of brilliant green spheres staring at him. Neil felt like he was choking, "Since when you're here?" he blurted out in surprise.

"Um… five, six days ago? This is my room, you know." Reine reminded him.

_Right. What a donkey question._ Neil told himself, "I mean… since when you're… awake?"

"Oh, that, I'm just awake for a spell."

Neil looked at her and couldn't help to notice what a bad liar she was, although it was meant to be a white lie.

Reine awkwardly tried to adjust herself, "I… don't expect you to come visit me, since ER never sleeps." She said, "but since you're here… do you mind being my audio book?"

"Huh?"

Reine offered him the book she was holding, "Read this to me?" she asked innocently. "I can never get tired listening to you. I'm pretty sure I can spend my life just listening to you telling me stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah! Anything, everything in this world." She said, "and we can start from this book."

Neil took the book from her: Jodi Picoult's _Vanishing Acts_. He sat down next to her bed and asked, "Which line you want me to read?"

"Oh, just pick any line." Reine replied, "I've read that one, so I remember everything. Just pick a random line and start from there."

When unsure, back to the beginning. So that's what Neil did: he opened the first page and began reading the lines to her, in his original, unaltered accent, in a volume that only they could hear: "I was six years old the first time I disappeared."

He kept reading to her while getting lost in the words himself. And when he got to the fourth chapter, Neil noticed that Reine had fallen asleep with a contented smile on her face. Neil couldn't help but to smile lightly—she looked like a little girl listening to a bedtime story. Then again, maybe that was what it had been to Reine.

Neil decided to scan through the book, captivated by the story himself. His eyes then fell on a certain quote:

_Memories aren't stored in the heart or the head or even the soul, if you ask me, but in the spaces between any given two people._

Neil glanced at Reine and finally realized that these words were very true, even for those like them. Neil closed the space between them and pulled the blanket over Reine until it covered her neck and put the book back on the nightstand before leaving, widening the space between them once again, but now with the knowledge that this space wasn't for nothing.

* * *

Reine had asked Neil whether he could continue reading after her first session of physiotherapy (in which she couldn't get past through even one third of the whole lane without having her arms felt like burning). Although Reine knew what would come next, it didn't diminish the excitement of listening to them being read in his voice. For someone with his attitude, his voice was surprisingly soft and soothing (until the words that came out from his mouth were swearing and curses, of course).

It was then Reine noticed the young man standing a few metres away from them, staring at them with a hesitant look. It was easy for Reine to recognize the young man to be the younger Jackson, since—just like any other—Reine couldn't forget about him. Reine smiled at him, "Is there anything you need from Dr Forrester?"

"Uh… I just wanted to say… I've been discharged."

"I signed the papers." Neil retorted, again, refusing to look at the younger Jackson in the eyes. However, this time, instead of being angered, younger Jackson also seemed to be rather uneasy and rather restless.

"I… wanted to thank you," the young man finally said, "and I'm sorry… about my words."

Neil didn't answer him at all, prompting Reine to touch his arm lightly and smiled encouragingly at him, having heard what had happened between the two of them from one of the nurses who came to change her IV.

"Fine." Neil finally said, "It's fine."

He then stood up, "I have to go back." He declared abruptly before leaving the garden, putting the book on Reine's lap before he went away.

Reine turned at the younger Jackson and smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, by now you should've realized not all doctors are people person. I think he's just too used to work on dead people he kinda forgets how to interact with the breathing ones."

"It's fine, Ma'am."

The young man eyed Reine carefully. _Was she the one?_

Truth to be told, soon after Neil left, another doctor came in. A black doctor. "Dr Forrester doesn't talk much," he had told him, "but that's not because we're black."

"Yeah, right."

"Ask around, Mr Jackson, and every staff would tell you that Dr Forrester had operated on you with a great personal cost on himself."

Reine seemed to sense the young man's feeling and tapped the bench next to her, "Why don't you sit down and we could have a small chat?"

"I'm sorry about what my brother did… to you."

"Oh," Reine asked, "who told you?"

"I dug around." Jackson admitted. "I… I'm so sorry, Ma'am."

"I'm glad you are discharged today, Jackson, and I'm sure your brother would be, too." Reine told him, "He was just looking out for you. Can't say I agree with how he did it… but as for why… I can understand."

"But, still—!"

"There's silver lining in every clouds, yes?" Reine asked, "I'm on my hunting journey to find that silver lining, and I guess…" she trailed off as she gazed at the book on her lap. She brushed her fingers against the cover lightly, "I guess I have found that. The silver lining."

Unbeknownst to her, Mark saw everything that happened from a distance.

* * *

_The silver lining that Reine finds..._

_and Mark being a silent audience._

_Stay tuned for the next chapter! ^^_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	33. His Coat and Code

_teamBLAZE: your question will be answered in this chapter! Thank you so much for the constant review! It really encourages me! ^^_

* * *

Reine gripped the handlebars tightly as she moved her right leg forward. The cast on her right leg had been replaced with a leg brace that covered all the way from her thigh to below her knee, then another one covering her lower leg in the shape of some sort of super-sized boots (although Reine loved wearing boots, this would certainly be an exception). Thankfully the gunshot wounds on her left leg were all shallow, so no bone was broken there. Her legs thus recovered at different rates: her left leg was almost fully recovered while she still suffered burning pains and numbness on the right counterpart. However, Reine managed to pull through the physiotherapy through her sheer willpower.

"Reine, do you want to take a break?" her therapist asked.

"No way!" she replied, "I'm already halfway!"

Reine took another step with her left leg, and then she tried to take another one, this time with her right leg. Pulling the leg up was already an effort, and in the end Reine only managed to drag it, just like always.

"If you're not taking a break soon, you'll break the brace for real." Her therapist sighed.

Reine laughed as she wiped the sweat on her forehead, "I won't," she assured her, "because soon, I'll be able to lift this damn leg!"

A nurse came in and greeted them, "You have a visitor, Dr Kreiss," she said while pointing at the glass window. Reine froze at the sight of her visitor. "Can we… take a break?" she finally asked.

* * *

They finally settled on the hospital garden. "You seem to recover well, Reine," Helena said with a smile. "And as always, you push yourself too hard."

"I… I have to get well really soon."

"If you're worried about your mission, don't worry," Helena said, "there's another agent planted here."

Reine held her breath, "Does that mean I'm dismissed?"

"You have another assignment from me, Reine," Helena replied in a maternal tone, "Rest. And get better in a reasonable pace."

Reine fiddled with her fingers nervously, "I wanted my mother to rest in peace—a real peace—by finishing what she couldn't."

Helena rose from her seat and embraced the younger woman. Reine breathed in the flowery scent that came with Helena's perfume. "What kind of mother would love to see her child pushing herself too hard?"

* * *

Leighton Croft put her sharp ears at attention, and they were soon filled with hospital gossips. "Have you heard that they acquitted the shooter Jackson?" she heard, "Yes! I heard it's acquittal on the grounds of insanity!"

"I can't believe it!"

Of course she had heard the news about the shooting in the OR. No fatalities, but one internist was severely injured. That made her shivered just a bit when she learned that she would be posted to the ER, but she braved herself as she pushed the door open and she saw the empty ER, with a two brunettes of different shades, wearing different coloured scrubs, at the station. The brunette in lime-green scrubs, just like hers, came up and walked over to her, "You must be the new nurse, Leighton Croft." She said with a smile, "I'm Elizabeth Reeve, but you can just call me Elli like everyone does."

"Hi," Leighton greeted rather nervously.

"I am Georgia!" the other brunette said with a wide smile on her face, "I hope we can be a great team together!"

Leighton then felt another presence behind her back. She turned around abruptly and found a man standing behind her, wearing a dark purple scrubs—darker than the one worn by Georgia, darker than the colour of his eyes that were glaring down at her.

Leighton could feel him scrutinizing the black streaks on her platinum blonde hair. Somehow, his silence sent chills down her nerves—and she hated it. For a moment, their eyes met—his red wine and hers green-grey—but they broke that eye contact quicker than they had established it before. The man then walked away and put down a piece of paper at the nurse station before walking out from the ER—everything done in total silence.

"Who is he?" Leighton asked once he was gone.

"That's the Head of Trauma, Dr Forrester." Georgia replied, "He may seem scary, but he is actually nice."

_So he's my boss?_ Leighton asked inwardly, _God bless my soul._

* * *

Reine saw the piece of paper in her hand in disbelief. She then raised her head and met Neil's eyes, "Is this for real?" she asked.

"What do you think?"

"Talk about useless answer, Neil," Reine grumbled, "but how…?"

The piece of paper in Reine's hand was the updated organizational chart of the ER. At the top, the Head of Trauma, was still Neil Forrester. Slightly below it, under the label of "Attending Emergency Physician", was Dr Renaissance V. Kreiss.

"I'm not an emergency physician!"

Neil shrugged, "You work in ER long enough to be considered as one, actually."

"But my Chief would not…"

"Your name is already there."

"You talked it over with the Chief?" Reine asked him in disbelief.

Neil picked up the novel that Reine put at the nightstand and opened the page that had been marked. He was actually nervous the first time he read to her, but now it had become much easier to read to her—his real accent was now even more apparent when he conversed with others as a result.

Reine smiled, thanking him inwardly for both the promotion and his willingness to keep her company, and she was glad that Neil now sounded more honest to himself by not altering his accent anymore.

Neil took a deep breath and began reading. After some moments, there was one quote that caught Reine's attention:

"I believe that you can fall in love many times with many different people. However, I don't think that you can fall in love the same way twice. One type of relationship may be steady. Another may be fire and brimstone."

Reine's mind immediately went over to Mark. He hadn't visited her for the last three days—she figured he was busy with his patients. A part of her missed him, but surprisingly she didn't miss him as much as she thought she would—and that made her feel rather guilty because another part of her knew that the reason for that was Neil Forrester.

_Is this considered as cheating…?_ She asked herself.

What came after from Neil's mouth, however, seemed to serve as her answer:

"…Who is to say if one of these is better than the other? The deciding factor is how it all fits together. Your love, I mean, and your life."

* * *

Mark and Allen stood together outside of Reine's room, watching Neil and Reine that seemed to be absorbed into the moment they were in. It was obvious to Mark that Neil tried to keep a respectful distance from Reine, of course, but there was also something else that was painfully obvious to him.

"Have you ever…" he trailed off, trying to form the words, "…feel that you're the third party, although you're actually the boyfriend?"

"No." Allen replied, "But I understand what you're trying to tell me."

"There's just that Something—with a capital S—between them." Mark said, "A chemistry… perhaps?"

"Maybe," Allen nodded slowly. "So what're you going to do about it? Confront him?"

Mark glanced at the envelope in his hand. He sighed heavily and eventually took off his white coat and gave it to Allen, "Can you do me a favour and pass that to him?" he asked before he turned around and walked away.

* * *

The door to the emergency staircase was opened and Neil looked up. Much to his surprise, Allen Rosencrantz looked back at him with a smug grin on his face, "So this is your sanctuary, huh?"

"How do you…?"

"Reine." Allen interjected.

Neil sighed and stood up, "What's your business?"

Allen threw a white coat that Neil deftly caught. "What the hell?!" he scowled when the embroidery caught his eyes.

"That's his gift to you," Allen said, "as from me, I'd go with this piece of advice: your next rival might not be so gracious, gentleman."

Allen turned around and waved his hand, "See ya, Forrester."

Neil stared at the coat in his hands with mixed feelings, because he knew this time it wasn't just a coat. It was a code of surrender.

* * *

Reine was finally allowed to go home. By now, she was able to walk in short distance with a cane although her doctor still strongly suggested Reine to use wheelchair while covering long distance or at night, when her nerves were still acting up. Gwen and Chelsea accompanied her home and while the two of them went to the bedroom to put down her bag and other stuff, Reine noticed the envelope lying on the otherwise empty coffee table.

With a knock of curiosity, Reine walked there and took the envelope. Throwing herself back to the couch, she opened it and found a letter, written in Mark's handwriting.

_Dear Reine, _

_First of all, I want you to know that I am not angry with you. Sad, but not angry._

_Although we don't really show it, men know when we have rivals. I know you love me, Reine, but I also know that you love him—most probably more than you love me. You may say I'm being over-sensitive, or even delusional. I'd say you just haven't realized the extent of your own feelings._

_I believed what he had done to you was wrong, Reine. I mean, you don't have the right to lead someone on if you're not ready to catch her when she falls. I'd totally catch you if you had fallen for me then, Reine, but let's face it—you didn't. I know you told me that it was just a fleeting crush, and I believed you, but like what I've told you: I guess you haven't realized how much love you were capable of giving._

_And this incident made it very clear to me that I couldn't deny it. While it might be true that by operating on you I have saved your life, when I saw him reading to you and how you seem to be at peace with him around, I realized that he had saved you._

_Actually I have been sending application letter for fellowships to several hospitals for the time being, but with your condition and everything I couldn't bring myself to tell you. Earlier today, a letter from Grey Sloan Memorial came, telling me that they accepted my application. I guess the timing was perfect. I'll take some distance to let you… sort out your feelings for both of us._

_If you ever feel that you are tired of going round in circle with your feelings for him, Reine, you know where to find me. But let me tell you something: unlike fairy tales, love is not enough for a relationship to go on. Even if you love someone more than the world, sometimes it just doesn't work out. I've learned it the hard way._

_Believe me, Reine, if my love was enough, I would've stayed._

_With love,_

_Mark_

Reine closed the letter and put it back into the envelope. Her legs felt numb, but this time her chest followed suit. Reine leaned back and closed her eyes, and Neil's voice echoed in her head:

_"Who is to say if one of these is better than the other? The deciding factor is how it all fits together. Your love, I mean, and your life."_

* * *

_Mark finally decides to throw in the white cloth,_

_and another agent at the hospital?_

_Stay tuned to find out next!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

**_A/N: so yeah, in this chapter, the white coat is supposed to replace the white cloth that is usually waved as a sign of surrender. Besides, he also resigns from Oakbrook, so I just find it apt to use that as Mark's sign of giving up on Reine as well. Plus: remember Neil's thinking that 'it's just a coat' when he thought Reine gave back his coat through an intern to put some distance between them because of Mark? I'm kinda playing around with that phrase. :P_**

**_Leighton Croft is an OC by TheMultiColoredPencil, which is also featured as the main character of A Kingdom Divided. She will be featured as a regular in this story :)_**

**_Grey Sloan Memorial is the setting for Grey's Anatomy, while the quote that Neil's reading come from another of Picoult's novel: Songs of The Humpback Whale. ^^_**


	34. Constellation and Big Blast

_okay guys, this is going to be a long chapter! But I promise it won't be boring!_

* * *

These days ER seemed to be a popular destination in lieu of school, so Leighton Croft decided to replenish the medicine supply for ER—and some soft toys—when the door to the ER was opened and a pinkette came in. She wore dark green scrubs below her white coat, and almost her whole right leg was put into a leg brace. She walked with a cane in her left arm, limping her way into the ER.

Her nurse instinct kicked in and she immediately ran over to the lady, "Do you need any help?"

Leighton tried to support her but the pinkette immediately put her right hand up, preventing her. "No, no, no I'm fine!" she said with a grin on her face. The pinkette then eyed her carefully, "You're new here, aren't you?"

"O—oh, yeah." She replied, "I'm Leighton."

"Welcome to the ER!" the pinkette greeted her.

Elli and Georgia emerged from one of the spaces, "Dr Kreiss!" they exclaimed eagerly.

"Hey, guys! Miss me around?"

"Dr Forrester is awful without you!" Georgia whined. "He is like dry ice!"

Reine laughed, "Careful. He might hear you."

"I want someone from Peds on standby today."

Everyone turned at the voice and Georgia froze in fear. "D-Dr Forrester!"

Neil stared at Georgia, "Is my instruction unclear?"

"N-No, Sir! I'll page Peds right away!"

Georgia dashed out from Neil's sight and Neil shifted his eyes to Reine. Reine beamed into a grin at him and he replied with a grunt, curt 'hm'. Much to Leighton's surprise, Reine laughed at poked at his leg playfully with her cane. "C'mon, c'mon!" she cooed. "Is that your way to greet your long lost partner in crime? I've been away for… what? Five months?"

Leighton tried to form the timeline in her head. _Is she the internist that was injured on that incident?_

Dr Forrester rolled his eyes, but he didn't seem to be angry at the treatment. "I'm not gonna catch you if you fall, Kreiss."

"I don't ask you to!" Reine laughed again, "but you are welcome, I guess, if you want to—I won't file for sexual harassment."

Dr Forrester rolled his eyes again, this time more obvious than the last one. Reine giggled like a little girl and thrust her cane again at him.

"How can she be so… relaxed around him?" Leighton whispered confusedly.

Elli smiled and motioned for Leighton to come with her, away from the two doctors.

"Do you think moon is beautiful?" Elli asked.

"Yeah. Especially during full moon."

"You know that happens because moon reflects sunlight, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's just how Dr Forrester and Dr Kreiss work."

"Hah?" Leighton frowned, trying to connect the analogy to the two polar opposite doctors.

Elli smiled, "Dr Forrester is kind of like the moon—very solemn and mysterious. Then, Dr Kreiss is the sun that allows him to glow. She brings the best out of him, while he fills in where she couldn't."

Leighton glanced at the two attendings. Reine was still poking her cane at Neil while laughing—clearly having fun—with Neil making occasional sound of grunts but made no attempt to escape. In fact, he stayed within the reach of her cane, knowing that if he moved away, she might fall while trying to reach him.

"I think I understand what you mean…" Leighton murmured.

* * *

Five days ago, there was a crash involving a school bus; three days ago there was an attack on a day care centre. This was the reason why Neil requested a standby paediatric surgeon and the real reason why Reine came in for work despite still being officially on sick leave; last night Helena called in and asked her to patrol the hospital.

_"I suspect that this is some sort of systematic attacks targeting children."_

_"Terrorism?"_

_"Maybe. But I want you to stay at the hospital, because anything might happen. I know it's a lot to ask—"_

_"How about Gwen? She's the Head of Paediatric Surgery."_

_"This isn't official—it's just my deductions. You can't tell her yet."_

Therefore, Reine decided to visit the fourth floor, the Paediatrics' floor. Unfortunately for her, when she reached the elevator, there was a sign "Reparation in Progress—Sorry for the inconvenience" being put up.

For a moment, Reine felt a bit disheartened. However she quickly picked her spirits up and grinned, "Thank God I'm no longer wheelchair bound!" she said as she walked—or limped, rather—towards the direction of the staircase.

* * *

Allen looked at his chart. These days, he's getting more and more children patients—the bus crash caused a considerable number of burn patient since the bus exploded thanks to the leak in the fuel tank. On one hand, he felt awful to see these children suffered from the painful burns, on the other hand, he got to interact with Gwen more and more often—with Gwen often gave him advice as to how to handle these tiny patients.

"When dealing with children," she once told him, "you don't only deal with them. You deal with their parents, too."

That time, Allen wondered why she had bothered to tell him. However, it was soon clear when they held a meeting with one of their patients. When Allen tried to check on the little girl, the mother started to ramble on how her daughter couldn't sleep at night and how there was some sticky liquid oozing out and how her daughter couldn't pee properly—all kinds of complaints you could find—while the girl remained perfectly still on her bed. It overwhelmed Allen for a moment, but Gwen finally stepped in and dealt with the mother patiently after giving him an 'I told you' look.

Allen began his rounds at the fourth floor, hoping that—even though it would be lovely to have more chances to work with Gwen—there would be no more children patients coming in today.

* * *

Reine panted heavily, her right leg burning in pain. She just passed the second floor and halfway to the third floor. She tried to take another step up, but when she tried to pull her right leg up, it hit the step and the rapid jolt of pain spread through her right leg.

"Oh, shit." She grunted.

In the end, she decided to sit by the step for a while, waiting for the pain to subside. She let her right leg to lie straight while she propped her head on her hand, which was propped against her left leg.

_This is annoying…_

The pain seemed reluctant to leave her alone, becoming a very much-unwelcomed companion, and that was when Reine heard another footsteps.

Reine raised her head and found the trauma surgeon staring at her, "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"…having my lunch break."

Neil eyed her carefully. "Tell me, you're having a lunch break at the two-and-a-half floor, without any food, while the cafeteria is at the first floor?"

"Change of scenery."

Neil looked around, "What exactly did you see?"

Without much thought, Reine replied: "You."

Neil rolled his eyes. "You know how amazing your lies are, don't you?" he asked sarcastically.

Reine sighed heavily, and Neil quickly noticed her current mood. Neil stood there, waiting for her next words.

"I wanted to go to the Ped's floor. But my leg hurts."

Reine began to sob, but she quickly composed herself and wiped her tears away. "In any case, I'm fine."

Much to her surprise, however, Neil was already squatting down in front of her. "What are you doing?"

"Not taking a break, obviously." Neil replied. "Hop on."

After slight hesitation, Reine put her arms around Neil and Neil easily lifted her up for a piggyback. He even carried her cane for her.

"I'm like an old lady." Reine grumbled.

"That's fine. You're still the Attending Emergency Physician."

"And what does that supposed to mean?"

Neil sighed. "You have to work that out yourself, old lady."

Neil put her down when they reached the fourth floor. "Thanks…" Reine said.

Neil nodded and turned back when he noticed something being fixed onto the wall that he hadn't noticed before. There was a blinking light there.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

* * *

The sound of the explosion shook the ground of the hospital until the ground floor. Gwen, who was visiting another floor at that time, knew that it came from the fourth floor. "Crap!" she yelled as she dashed to the stairs, only to find that it had been blocked by the rubbles from the explosion.

"Call 911!" she yelled.

Gwen then dashed to the emergency staircase and ran upstairs. However, just as she was about to flash her card to open the door to the fourth floor, she noticed two strange items with blinking lights. Gwen held her breath.

* * *

Allen heard the next explosion came from the emergency staircase and he decided to check the condition there. The paediatric staffs were trying to calm the children down, and it was quite literally a shipwreck.

Allen heard someone banged on the door. "Who's there?!" he shouted.

"Allen?!"

That voice.

"Gwen?"

"Open the door! Let me in!"

Allen was just about to do that when he noticed a strange package near the nurse station. Looking at the chain of events, Allen walked over and peeked at the package. True enough, there was another black box of the size of a shoebox, with timer and a blinking light.

Allen walked to the door. "Can you move to other floors?"

"No. It's completely blocked off, and the scanner on this side is damaged by the explosion earlier!" Gwen replied, "That's why, let me in!"

"I'm afraid you have to stay there, Gwen." Allen replied sternly.

* * *

_A bomb threat at the Paediatrics ward!_

_What will happen next?_

_Stay tuned for the next chapter!_

**_A/N: I do really think Reine and Neil are just like the sun and moon here. Reine brings out Neil's glow, while Neil seems to fill in the space where Reine can't. And Neil shows his affection in his own way, such as by letting Reine to have fun by literally poking at him, or by silently offering the piggyback, and by reminding her that she is the Attending Emergency Physician, someone he can trust a lot. And remember Dunhill's comment about how Neil would need "the sun in his arm's length"? :P_**

**_And by the way, just to make it explicit, it has been five months since the Jackson shooting incident and Reine has been on sick leave since then. So it's not really one incident after another. :P_**


	35. Who We Are

_ToOH: Usually undercover investigation takes a long time, although Reine's injury do add to the length of her undercover period! Well, the Medical Crime Unit is a new unit and Reine hasn't been exactly showing up in the FBI office. Even if the other agent notices her, they have to act as if they are strangers so not to compromise the investigation. And, yes, I have plans to pair Leighton Croft up!_

_teamBLAZE: the right case gets to the right person (Reine's tough girl reputation is not just a name, apparently :P)_

_by the way, PSBT is the acronym for Public Safety Bomb Technician._

* * *

"Are you alright, Neil?" Reine asked worriedly.

Earlier, Neil had pushed her just in time to avoid the blast and shielded her. He moved his body slightly, "Yeah, I'm fine. Your leg?"

"It's fine." She told him.

Neil stood up and offered his hand to her, which she accepted. "Thank you," she said.

That was when Reine felt her phone vibrating, and when she saw the name displayed on her screen, she broke away from Neil before picking up the phone.

_"Are you at the paediatrics floor?"_ Helena asked.

"Yeah, the blast delivered me in."

_"Apparently, SPD had received a bomb threat on all hospitals with specialised paediatrics ward, which includes Oakbrook. And similar bombings had occurred in Vegas three months ago, so we presume that these are the same guys."_

"Okay, so?"

_"There are two undercover PSBTs in Oakbrook."_

"And how do I know who are they?"

_"I'll connect you to the team now."_

Soon, another voice came into her ear, _"Special Agent Kreiss?"_

"Yes."

_"There are multiple bombs on the floor. Individually, the damage is not catastrophic, but they can create a chain of explosion—enough to blast the whole hospital, contained in one floor since that floor is currently sealed off by the previous explosions. We will need your help to dispose them."_

For a moment, Reine thought it was a joke—a horrible joke—but the tone of the man on the other side of the line assured her that it wasn't, and that now she had to switch to her FBI persona.

"Okay." She said.

Attaching her phone into headset, Reine followed the instruction of the man, who asked her to scan one third of the floor (apparently the two undercover members of the PSBT would cover the other two-third). Reine managed to find four bombs in slightly varying size—the biggest was the size of shoebox.

Reine that the timer was only set at the biggest one—she deduced that once the biggest one blew off, it would set a chain effect to the smaller ones.

"I should put out the one with the timer first, right?" Reine asked.

_"No. The smaller bombs are very sensitive to touch and temperature. They are more volatile."_

"O… okay."

Reine carefully moved all the bombs to one of the more isolated corner of the floor—using towel to cover the smaller bombs to nullify the touch and heat sensor—and she grabbed a toolbox from the nurse station. Miraculously she could find a box of surgical tools stored there, so she decided to bring that box as well (better safe than sorry, she thought).

Reine sat down in front of the four bombs. "Okay, I'm ready." She said.

_"Okay, we'll start with the smaller bomb."_ The man said, _"Unscrew the cover carefully."_

Reine took a screwdriver and began to unfasten the screw at one of the corners of the rectangular-shaped black box. Her hand was visibly trembling, and her heart was practically racing.

_There are at least sixty-eight children on this floor. Sixty-eight futures. _She thought, _Oh, shit._

It was then Reine felt a gentle touch on her shoulder and she turned sharply.

"Let me do that." Neil said calmly.

"N-no way!"

"I have steady hands," he said, "and racing against the time is in the description of my job."

_Well, that's true…_ Reine admitted inwardly.

"Dr Kreiss, this is not the time to ponder."

Neil took the screwdriver from Reine and pulled her up and away from the bomb. "I presume you're talking to someone who can guide me through this?"

"Y-Yes."

Reine gave her phone to Neil, "I'll take over from her." He told the man calmly.

Reine was baffled. How could he keep his calm in times like this? Was it just his nature?

He didn't seem to be bothered at all, being surrounded by bombs.

Did he know something called 'fear', or at least, 'nervousness'?

Reine watched Neil as he calmly and adroitly dissemble the bomb—one might think he was an undercover PSBT himself if they didn't know him better.

"…who are you?" Reine found herself asking—loud enough for the other party to hear.

"The same goes to you, Dr Kreiss." Neil replied coldly while continuing his work, "Who are you?"

Reine took a step back. Obviously she couldn't tell him who she was. He, after all, was one of her suspect, still, being in the Surgery Department and all.

"But is it the time for such questions?" Neil asked again, "Time has never been in our favour, don't you think?"

"I…"

"I can do this," Neil assured her, "and there's something that you can do way better than I can."

It was only then Reine heard the faint sobbing behind them. Reine turned around and a girl holding her teddy bear was weeping. "Dr Gee…? Is that you…?"

Reine turned again at Neil, who was still dissembling the bomb with both precision and speed—his strengths as a surgeon being very handy in it. Reine took a deep breath and took off her ID card, shoving it into her pocket. Reine then turned around at the girl and smiled at her. "Why don't we go somewhere else, sweetheart?"

* * *

Reine soon found herself with the children who were gathered together in one of the activity rooms that was deemed as one of the safer place for the children in case anything went wrong (read: the bomb exploded). Of course they soon learned that she wasn't Dr Gee, but it didn't take them long to accept her. Now, they were trying, in their own ways, to pronounce Reine's name:

"Ruhnay?" one child said.

"Ruuuuhnei?"

"Rahnay?"

Her names sounded funny, bordering to weird, on their tongues. But she wasn't annoyed at all—at least that could distract them.

As for her, her mind couldn't go too far away from the man who had taken her place.

* * *

Allen watched as the PSBT member tried to dissemble the bomb a few metres away from him. He was asked to leave, but he had refused.

"I had someone to be accompanied," he told the PSBT member. "She is a scaredy cat in the dark."

"I'm fine, Rosencrantz!" Gwen said behind the door.

"Yeah, right, I bet you're shaking now."

She didn't want to admit it, but he was right—her hands were visibly trembling as the only light source in the small space she was in came from the small glass window on the emergency door. She had always, always hated the dark ever since she could remember.

"It's okay, Gwen," Allen assured her, "What kind of a man who leave a girl when she needs him the most?"

"What a self-aggrandizing jerk…" she muttered, although inwardly, she couldn't deny her gratefulness.

* * *

_Will the looming threat forces honesty out of these four people?_

_Stay tuned to find out!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

**_A/N: this time, Reine's name is indeed pronounced as RUH-nay, like how "Renai" in "Renaissance" is pronounced since it's a nickname from Renaissance after all. So, in all three stories featuring her, her name is pronounced differently. ^^_**


	36. Lost Chance

_Mew-Star-Mew: I guess if it's American accent, yeah, the last one will get it. But if we imagine Neil calls Reine with his British accent, I bet it will sound different :P well Allen can be a jerk, but he's a lovable jerk, I guess :P_

* * *

In no way Allen Rosencrantz had been her first. Not her first crush, not her first love, obviously not her first boyfriend or even ex. But Gwen would admit that at a certain point of her life, she had fallen in love with him. Heck, she might even love him up until now—the self-aggrandizing jerk that tried to be the first in everything he did.

"You are never my first," was the line that she used to break things off with him. "You never are, and never will be."

What was she thinking, agreeing to go out with such a man? Worse—she grew to be fond of him. She was nothing compared to the line of his exes, they were like the girls you would find on the cheerleader line-up on a football match while she was the girl on the bleacher, nose buried in books. To say that she felt insecure might be slightly inaccurate—she felt like she was being ridiculed by him. Her confidence was never stronger than a piece of wine glass, and when one of Allen's most recent ex-girlfriend came by and gave her that sizing-up, judging look, Gwen felt that she had gotten what she hadn't signed up for.

So, she retaliated by picking on his pride of being the first.

Truth to be told, this was a victory that didn't taste sweet at all. It was bitter, instead. But, Gwen was too proud to admit that to anyone, even herself.

And now she berated herself for feeling grateful by the companionship that Allen gave her currently across the steel door. Their relationship had improved ever since Allen introduced her to Giselle, and actually she got along pretty well with Giselle, especially after she learned ASL, but that didn't really erase the bitter victory she had in her memories of him.

* * *

Neil worked through the second bomb faster than the first, since he had remembered the steps of defusing it. He had never thought that he would use a scalpel to cut a cable, or a cotton ball as an insulating stopper, but he knew desperate times called for desperate measures. For the very least, he was grateful that this time, if things went wrong, he would get the most severe damage rather than anyone else (oh, like we don't know).

Neil used forceps to immobilize the cable before cutting it off completely. Usually, his job was to connect things: mainly veins, but sometimes he might get bones or even detached limbs.

With his average speed, it took him 2.789 seconds to suture superior vena cava.

It took him less than a second to cut off a wire of a similar diameter.

Isn't it just like humans' relationships? It took so long to build the connection, but only one moment to sever it.

Where is it, then, the value of treasuring such entity?

* * *

Reine tried to distract the kids, as well as her own mind. The bug she had attached to her phone right before she handed it over to Neil had allowed her to listen to the conversation between the two men.

Neil was really something else—did he have nerves for fear?

And there were his words:

_"Time has never been in our favour, don't you think?"_

Reine sighed heavily, _It isn't just time, _she remarked inwardly, _It's everything about us. About me, actually._

But if it was indeed the time that was not right for them, Reine would think of their relationship being like Halley's Comet. Once you missed it, you had to wait for another lifetime. If you lived long enough, you might get to get your second chance, but that would be unlikely.

The moment she decided to pursue a relationship with Mark, Reine determined that she had missed her chance with Neil Forrester.

* * *

Allen leaned his head against the cold steel door. He didn't encounter many deaths after he became a plastic surgeon, but he encountered enough during his residency to know that Honesty loved Death because Death was its limelight.

As he listened to the ticking sound of the timer countdown, he began to understand why. "Hey, Gwen,"

No response, but he knew she was listening. She had nothing better to do, anyway.

"You want to know what irks me the most about you?" he asked, "You are like a child with her toy. You play with it to your heart content and then ditch it to the coldest corner of the room, burying it into dust. After all those we shared, you simply ditched me… just like an out-dated toy."

"I am a grown man, Guinevere Elizabeth Kreiss. I can't be another of your toy."

There was a long period of silence, before she finally replied. "I never said you're my toy. I said you are never my first." She said, "You are a jerk, Allen."

Well, being called 'jerk' wasn't entirely a new thing for him.

"You are a womanizer—no, man-whore, even—who sleeps around like nobody's business. You think you are at the top of whichever ladder you are climbing. You think no one is better than you."

Allen could hear she was drawing in a sharp breath before she continued, "But you always made sure that I made it back to my doorstep. You remember I hate thick coffees but love thick teas. You made me believe that I am some sort of a princess of a quaint little country I would love to spend the rest of my life in. I hate you, Allen Rosencrantz—I hate how you make me feel about you—I hate for not being able to hate you—I hate how much you've made me love you. Can't you see how much I hate you?"

Allen couldn't help but to laugh, "Didn't you hear yourself out, princess?" he said, reverting to the old way in which he used to call her, "You love me. You do love me."

"And I hate you for it." Gwen reminded him, as if not wanting to yield.

The distressed voice of the PSBT interrupted their conversation, "You said there's no more cable drawn in the blueprint?! The timer's still running!"

* * *

Neil stared at the two remaining cables in the bigger bomb with the timer. Apparently whoever designed the bomb had decided to modify it.

The man on the other side of the line had told him that he shouldn't cut both cables simultaneously unless he wanted to kiss life goodbye. Nevertheless, even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to cut both simultaneously, for they were located at the extreme ends of the bomb. And apparently whoever built this box had some sense of humour by colouring one cable black while the other white.

There was only two minutes left.

* * *

"Dr Rosencrantz, you have to leave this place." The PSBT told him, "In worst case scenario…"

"The blast would certainly blow off this door, right?" Allen asked straightforwardly, "Are you asking me to run away, leaving her behind while she can't run away anywhere else?"

A small bomb, which was left unchecked, had blown off all the lock system in the whole floor, which rendered Allen unable to open the emergency door to let Gwen in even if he wanted to and effectively sealed the floor off in another way from outside contact. So, Gwen was practically trapped in the small space enclosed between the door and the rubbles on both sides of the staircase.

"Leave, Allen," Gwen told him sternly.

"Don't tell me what to do," he replied, equally sternly. "I'm staying."

"You are such a difficult person." Gwen sighed. "You always wanted to be the first in everything…"

"Well, actually there's something I want to be the last in, instead of the first." Allen told her.

"Huh?"

"The list of the man you ever love." He told her, "I want to be the last man you ever love."

* * *

_"Make your choice."_ The team leader told Neil, as well as the two undercover PSBT members, _"There's nothing else we can do but choose."_

It was a fifty-fifty probability. Not a very good probability, when bombs were concerned.

Reine heard the words, and her first instinct was to run back to Neil, but now three of the children were practically sleeping on her lap, preventing her to move even an inch.

She didn't have a choice.

* * *

"I'll cut the black cable," Allen heard the PSBT said as he moved the bomb further away, "the timer of this bomb is the earliest, anyway… so if this is the wrong choice…"

"This is no time for such sweet-nothings, Rosencrantz." Gwen warned.

"I know, and that's why it's not sweet-nothings." Allen replied, "That's why if we get out of this alive, Gwen… marry me."

That moment, Gwen noticed the rubbles from the stairs leading down moved and soon her face was washed by a bright flashlight of the rescue team. "We found one person here!"

Allen heard that, and he smiled to himself. The thought of dying together with her seemed to be romantic, but of course having her to survive would be more preferable.

The rescue team pulled Gwen from the door, "Come on, doctor, we don't have much time!"

Gwen struggled, but the rescue team managed to drag her away from the door.

That was when she heard the blast, and the door she was leaning against a few moments ago were thrown to the wall across it, together with Allen's bleeding body. His eyes were closed, a part of his face turned red because of the burns, and there was a hole on his chest.

She broke free from the grip of the rescue team and she fell to the ground "ALLEN!"

Had she lost her chance with him?

* * *

_What will happen to Allen?_

_Stay tuned for the next chapter!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


	37. Blessed Broken Road

_A little bit of flashback for Allen and Gwen..._

* * *

It was her birthday.

He led her to the place, her eyes covered with a blindfold.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her lips irrepressibly curled upwards.

"Just be patient, princess," he told her.

Finally they stopped and Allen took off the blindfold over her eyes. She opened her eyes and she gasped.

He had set up a small, round table, with a single candle at the middle with two chairs facing each other. The candle flickered slightly, mostly dancing around the wick. The food had been set up together with the wine. And if you looked up, you would see the stars so clearly.

She turned at him, "This is…"

"Perfect?" Allen asked.

The brunette nodded and Allen gave her a peck on her cheek, "You will expect no less from me, princess."

Allen led her to her seat and pulled the chair for her, asking her to sit down. She clearly couldn't hold back a smile as she watched Allen took out a violin case and opened it.

He rested the violin on his shoulder and began bowing. He knew she would instantly recognize the song since she often listened to Rascal Flatts. He glanced at her and smiled when he noticed her green eyes had become watery.

Well, basically, he was trying to tell her, truthfully, that:

She was the blessing at the end of his broken road.

It took him several—maybe quite a lot—of Northern Stars to get to her place, but now he did.

That she was the grander plan that became true for him.

She rose and threw her arms around him once the song was finished—he didn't even get to put his violin down.

"Thank you, Allen," she had whispered to him back then. "This is really a broken road… worth taking."

Maybe he should have known that their road was going to be broken soon after that night. Two weeks, to be precise.

* * *

He opened his eyes with an effort and he saw her looking down at him. He couldn't see any injuries on her. He tried to raise his arm, to touch her face, but it took a lot of effort that in the end it was her hands that found his, and she held it close in silence.

Gwen had never been a very verbal person, and he loved that about her. He could always appreciate the calming silence she had in her. There was just so much she could tell him in that one hold of hands.

"…You're fine…" he managed to speak after a great length, "and I'm… alive?"

She nodded and held his hand even tighter, pressing it against her chest. She then bent down and kissed the knuckles gently; the warmth of her lips permeated right through the layers of bandages. Allen then felt something else soaking, and only then he realized that she was crying.

"I… I… I am so afraid…" she managed to choke the words out. "No sane person… would… would… I haven't even answered you yet!"

This time, Allen managed to chuckle and he tried to free his fingers so that he could sweep her tears away, "I don't need the answer…" he told her, "…'cause I know it must be… a yes."

Gwen weep became more audible. "You jerk…"

"And you love me."

"Yeah, I do."

"…and you're going to marry me."

Gwen sighed, but it was one of great relief. "Yeah, I am."

Allen grinned, "See? I would kiss you if I could move my body."

Gwen chuckled as she stood up, "It's okay, you don't need to."

"Hm?"

Much to his surprise, the beautiful brunette bent down and pressed her lips against his. The first time ever (usually he was always the one initiating the kiss between them).

"You are going to be my first husband. You can add that to your 'first' list."

"This time I'd prefer the last spot." Allen grumbled, "Or even better, both."

Gwen chuckled. "Greedy jerk."

"Aaaaand, commercial break."

Gwen and Allen turned around and they saw Reine limping towards them with a chart. "Time for usual examination, and congrats—you really don't waste any time, do you?"

Allen laughed. "If you're my internist, I take it I was saved by the God?"

Reine rolled her eyes, "And I'm his angel?"

"Something like that," Allen agreed. "You're quite angelic when your mouth is shut."

Gwen shot a glare at him and Reine giggled, "Don't flirt with your fiancée's sister. Not a good idea, I tell you."

Allen laughed, "I didn't mean to. It's natural."

Gwen rolled her eyes and sighed, "I'll go talk to Forrester after this."

"You better don't."

"Huh?"

"He's sleeping," Reine said as she checked the IV drip, "He needs some uninterrupted sleep now, if you get what I mean."

Gwen nodded and she sat back on the chair she was sitting on. "By the way, Reine, will you fulfil your promise?"

"Which one?"

"The one we made as girls." Gwen smiled, "About you singing at my wedding?"

"Ah," Reine instantly remembered the promise, and then she glanced at Allen, "Well, your dear fiancé here just said I'm angelic only when my mouth is shut… but I'm no angel."

Gwen managed to laugh softly, "Thanks, Reine."

Allen turned at Gwen, "She can sing?!"

Reine put a sassy hand on her hip and flicked her finger sideways, "Don't underestimate me, Rosencrantz," she said, before she begin singing, "Can you feel the love tonight? The peace that evening brings…"

"Damn." Allen muttered under his breath, "You're good."

Reine laughed and said, "Oh well, I have to go back now. Again, congrats. And Gwen?"

"Yeah?"

"I want my maid of honour dress to be pink."

Gwen laughed. "Yeah, as expected."

* * *

_It seems that the bomb had managed to bring out honesty from Allen and Gwen._

_Stay tuned for the next chapter!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_

**_A/N: by the way, the song that Allen plays for Gwen on violin is Rascal Flatts-Bless The Broken Road. The full extent of the bomb damage will be discussed on the next chapter because I want to focus more on Allen and Gwen on this chapter ^^ I hope you like it! ^^_**


	38. Spilling Morning

Leighton Croft was scurrying over to the ER, her eyes fixed on the floor as she took yet another quick step. Her boss was a total nitpick when it came to punctuality, stressing that working in ER was all about timing.

It was because of that she didn't notice that she was walking into another man until she bumped into him and felt that her body felt hot. Literally. Soon her now-empty cup of coffee rolled on the ground.

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, "Oh my god, the coffee is all over you!"

Leighton saw the black stain over her shirt and groaned internally, _Great. Do I have a change in the locker? Hopefully._

The man hurriedly fished for a handkerchief from his pocket and was about to use it to wipe the stain when he realized that the stain was located at a very awkward spot, to start with.

"Um…" he trailed off, "Maybe you want to do it yourself, I'm sorry."

It was only then Leighton raised her eyes and found a pair of summer sky blue eyes stared at her. "Oh well, I hope the stain doesn't linger."

She took the offered handkerchief and tapped it gently to the neckline, where the stain was the darkest. "This will take time." She groaned.

"Take it with you," the man offered kindly, "I hope you have a change of clothes?"

"Oh, I have to change into scrubs, anyway," she said, "so no problem in the meantime."

"Oh, you're a staff? Never see you around."

"I'm working in the ER." Leighton replied, as if the statement was self-explanatory.

Leighton knew that she was being less than friendly, but much to her surprise this man didn't seem to mind that. In fact, he was smiling at her during the entire duration of their conversation. "Then you're working with Forrester, I presume?"

"Uh, yes."

"I shouldn't hold you back for long, then,"

Leighton peeked at her watch: it was 7.58, "Oh crap!"

She dashed off, and didn't even stop to ask his name, or how to return the handkerchief. Not even a thanks.

* * *

Leighton managed to somewhat wash off the stain from her shirt, but it would need an emergency treatment once she got back home unless she wanted to be a trendsetter in stained shirt fashion. It was 8.09 when she finally reached the ER and she prayed with all her heart that Neil Forrester was somehow not there.

Her prayers fell short, however, when Dr Forrester's face was the first thing she saw when entering the ER.

_Crap._ She cursed internally.

As if adding to her streak of misfortune, the clock ticked right to 8.10.

Neil glared at her as if she had done a capital offence. Then again, to him, maybe she had.

"Oh, there you are Leighton!" a voice emerged from his back. Neil turned around and Leighton could see the internist's pink bun. She found it very amusing, how Dr Kreiss could keep her bun right at the top of her head with a hair stick (or pen, sometimes). Reine walked towards her, now she didn't need a cane anymore but her leg was still fitted into a brace, and Neil opened the way to her.

Reine turned and smiled sweetly at the surgeon—she was really the only one being immune to his deathly glare. "She was helping me out." She said.

Neil turned his stare at her, but Reine was unmoving. "You know how amazing your lies are, right?" he asked.

By now, Leighton was already drenched in cold sweat. Reine put a hand lightly on her shoulder as she let out a laugh.

_Laugh? She can still laugh at times like this?_

"You're smart, Neil, smarter than you let on." She then winked, "and you know you are _muuuuch_ nicer than you let on as well."

Neil Forrester rolled his eyes and turned on his heels, saying nothing. Reine turned to her and grinned, "See? He's not that scary."

"For you. Not for me." Leighton replied, "But thanks, doc."

"Reine is fine by me." Reine said, "I hope the stain doesn't last. It sucks."

"How'd you know?"

"Rod SOS-ed me for you." Reine winked.

"Rod? Who's Rod?"

"Apparently the man you bumped into this morning," Reine told her. "He asked me to tell you that he booked your lunch break to replace the coffee that he spilled over."

"Dr Forrester won't let me—"

"Kitty!"

Everyone turned with a jerk at the sudden loud, clear call and found a blonde woman throwing her arms around Neil and hugged him like a little girl with her favourite teddy bear.

_Kitty?_ Leighton thought.

"Let go!" Neil scowled.

"Aw, Kitty! I was so worried when I saw the bomb news! It destroyed half of the fourth floor, right?!"

"And I'm working on the first!" Neil groaned as he tried to push the woman away, "Now, get off me! And don't call me by that name, ever!"

Now some of the nurses and interns were already holding back their giggle. "Kitty" was clearly not the nickname they would associate with Dr Forrester. Never, ever.

Reine looked around and sighed before she walked over to them with a mocked hurry. The sound that her brace made against the floor attracted the attention of many, including the strange, audacious visitor. "Dr Forrester, I need you for some paperwork!" Reine said with a mocked pleading look on her face.

"Wha—" the surgeon immediately cleared his throat when he realized what was actually happening. "Ah, yes, thank you, Dr Kreiss."

The blond visitor was clearly displeased when she heard that, but Reine expertly handled the situation by smiling apologetically at her, "I can show you the cafeteria, if you like. They have Earl Grey tea for today."

"Oh, I love Earl Grey!" the woman clapped her hand excitedly, and Leighton swore she could see Reine let out a relieved sigh.

Reine led the way out from ER, but she managed to throw a glance back where Leighton could see Neil mouthing another 'thank you', and Reine replied with a cheeky smile and mouthed back, 'you owe me'.

Neil Forrester and Reine Kreiss really had a strange dynamic, but somehow, it sustained the ER.

* * *

"The name's Rio." The blonde introduced herself sweetly after she brought the tea for both of them (she insisted to do it because of Reine's leg brace).

"Mine's Reine." Reine replied, "So… I presume you're Forrester's… family?"

"Oh, you can guess?"

Reine smiled, "You should hear yourself talking."

"Then you must have reckoned that Kitty's British? Strange, he isn't so pleased when people know."

"Well, yes, took me months to learn."

"I'm Kitty's elder sister." Rio said, before she noticed Reine's baffled look, "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to de-masculinize him in front of his… oh my God I should have realized sooner!"

"No, no, no! He is very manly—I mean, not that I have—no, no what am I even talking 'bout ohmygodthissoundssowrong!" Reine took a deep breath and said, "We are just friends."

Rio giggled, "It's okay, it's okay. My brother's a good catch once you look past through his rough edges."

"I'm curious, though, why you call him Kitty."

"Because he's so lovely!" Rio replied at once, "but I think you should ask him the full story."

"My middle name… is Keaton."

Reine turned around and held her breath when she saw Neil was standing behind her, "You shouldn't pop behind people's back!" she chided. "But, anyway, that's a cool middle name."

"And he used to bring back stray kittens home." Rio recounted, "he would take care of them until someone will agree to be the kitten new home. I'd always thought he would end up being a vet."

This time, Reine couldn't hold back a squeal, "That's very sweet of you, Neil!"

"I know right!" Rio joined in.

Neil blushed slightly before he covered his face and turned away, "That's eons ago!"

Reine smiled and she stood up, knowing that—as much as she would love to listen to more Neil's childhood story and British accent—Neil had had his share of embarrassment from being called Kitty in front of his department. "Well, there must be an attending in ER, right? Why don't you enjoy a tête-à-tête with your sister while I'm making my way back?"

Neil offered Reine an arm when she struggled to get up, and Reine hesitated for a moment before she grinned and accepted it. "Thanks, partner," she said before she began to walk away.

Neil took over the chair that Reine left and stared at his sister. Rio blue eyes was basically twinkling with excitement, "So… pinkette?" she began teasingly, "Tell me about her."

* * *

_Leighton and Rod...?_

_And Reine gets something new about Neil, or Kitty..._

_stay tuned for the next update!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review!_

**_A/N: Yes, in this story Rio is Neil's elder sister to break the norm of them being love-interest and all. Well, I hope this isn't too awkward. Both are blond, anyway. And I think Kitty is a cute nickname for Neil :P_**


	39. Glooming Sun

Leighton Croft didn't know what had gotten into her mind, but somehow she found herself sitting across the smiling blond man at the cafeteria, two cups of coffee between them and a package of tuna sandwiches. While taking a bite of her sandwich

"I hope Forrester didn't chew you out." Rod said.

"He didn't," Leighton assured him, "and thanks for informing Dr Kreiss for me."

Rod beamed up, "No problem! I know he will soften up to her!" he said, "Don't you think Reine's kinda like the sun? She warms up people around her!"

"Actually, you're the second person telling me that—Dr Kreiss being like the sun—and yes, can totally see where you're coming from."

Rod laughed, "Really? Well, it's not that hard to see, anyway."

Leighton took a bite of her sandwich. "If you look at her often and attentive enough, yes, you'll pick it up."

Rod, realizing what Leighton was implying, turned a slight shade of scarlet. "Well, you'll hit the benchmark if you've been friends through college." He said, "She's the youngest in our batch, and her head clearly doesn't allow her go unnoticed."

"You can choose not to." Leighton was practically smirking now; Rod's emotion was a total open book to her. She wasn't even really paying attention to her sandwich—the munching became purely a mechanical activity to fulfil her biological need for fuel.

"True, true," he admitted, "but sometimes being drawn to is easier than drawing out."

"Passive-active, of course, of course." She nodded, before she finished the rest of her coffee, "Thanks for the coffee, um…"

"Rod." He said, laughing, "I can't believe you can hold a conversation with someone without asking for their name!"

"Maybe a nurse thing?" Leighton continued, "Anyway, Rod, yes—thanks for the coffee. I should probably get back now before Dr Forrester glares at me, again. One per day is the maximum dosage, you see."

"Will I see you… tomorrow?"

"Oh, for the handkerchief? Yes, of course!"

Rod grinned, "You can hold onto that for as long as you need, actually. But if I need a reason then, yes, the handkerchief."

* * *

After her shift today, Leighton decided to walk to other departments' wards just to familiarize herself more with the layout of the hospital. Of course she couldn't go to Paediatrics, since half of the floor was still in reconstruction due to the bomb (thankfully no other fatalities—besides the PSBT crew member—since it was exploded at the empty part of the floor).

She walked through the hallway on the second floor, on the ward for patients with chronic illness—the place with highest density of clinical physicians. Unless it was the first-class (two beds in one room) or VIP (one bed in one room), there wouldn't be any door to that particular room. It made things easier when someone was coding, anyway—and now it let Leighton Croft to observe the patients better.

Being a nurse, she was trained to observe the patients, to notice any slight abnormalities. While some people might think nurse was simply the doctor's sidekick, their very existence was a constant source of support for the doctors (both new and veterans) since treating someone was, after all, a team effort. They were the round-the-clock care, the first responders when there was any crisis—the bass line that accompanied the melody of doctors in the hospital.

It was then Leighton noticed someone familiar, "Felicity?" she called uncertainly.

The blond nurse raised her head from her chart and smiled sweetly when she noticed Leighton, "Leighton! Long time no see!"

Felicity rushed over to her ex-classmate in the nursing school and hugged her, "So you're working here now?"

"Yeah, ER."

"Wow. That must be tough…" Felicity said with an empathetic look, "I only survived one week there."

"Dr Forrester?"

"Who else?" Felicity rolled her eyes, "but I heard he's softened up after Dr Kreiss?"

"Seems like it."

"She is really amazing, dealing with someone like Dr Forrester! And she still have time to look over her own patients, you know?"

Leighton noticed a familiar figure behind Felicity's back. She peered over and Felicity, noticing the gesture, turned her body around. "That Mrs Schinelli, one of our long-term patients. Frankly… there might be… no more hope for her."

"And that's…"

"Her son: Rod Braxton, also our counsellor here. He always spends his time there when not working." Felicity replied with a hint of sadness, "He always believes that it's worth fighting for, even when the chance is less than one percent. He said, unless it's zero percent, he wanted to try."

Subconsciously, Leighton brought her hand over to one of her black streaks, touching it gently, just enough for her to feel the dyed strands on the surface of her hand.

She wasn't sure which one was better: just plain death or being in a limbo.

Besides, she wasn't privy to the sort-of choice that Rod Braxton had.

* * *

Somehow, Rio managed to convince Reine to have a dinner with her. They settled at a small Italian restaurant. Reine ordered beef lasagne and lemon tea, while Rio settled with carbonara fettuccini and Earl Grey tea.

"I notice you wear a different coloured scrubs than Kit—I mean, Neil's." Rio began talking as soon as they handed the menu back to the waiter, "Are you a surgeon?"

"No. I'm an internist." Reine said, "but in that particular ER, my main job is to be Neil's… public relation officer. Yes, I think that's it."

Rio laughed at Reine's answer, "Oh, yes, he'll surely need that." She agreed, "but please do understand. He had a… rough childhood."

Reine eyed the blonde sitting across her carefully, "Well, that's a pretty private conversation about him we're steering at." She remarked glumly, "not that I don't appreciate the trust, but I think Neil will tell me if he's ready to talk about it."

"Oh, yes, of course!" Rio replied, "Maybe the day will come after homo sapiens evolves into something else, but maybe the day is just a fortnight away—we have no way knowing. But my intention of inviting you over to dinner wasn't exactly that."

"Americans are not so good at… subtlety compared to British, don't you think?"

Rio smiled sweetly, "So I've noticed, and that's why I'll be quite straight-forward with you." She said, "I think he opens up to you, so I am quite curious of what kind of person you are. You see, my brother was so tight-lipped when I asked him about you, so I guess you are the best source to learn about you."

"Well… that might be… true, I suppose." Reine said hesitantly, "but don't set your expectations too high, Rio."

* * *

The dinner ended on a high note, with the two women ended up talking about many things, from clothes to politics. Despite having differing opinions, Reine found Rio to be perfectly amicable and the two of them had exchanged phone numbers and email addresses.

Rio was almost a complete opposite to Neil—their only common ground being the rich golden pigmentation on their hair. But, maybe with knowing both of them more, Reine thought she might uncover more interesting things.

For starters, now she knew that Neil was the youngest of four siblings—and he was the only male.

Reine noticed the unopened letter when she walked into her apartment. Without any suspicion thanks to her good mood, she picked it up, but she froze when she noticed the seal engraved on the envelope. Reine sat down and quickly opened it.

It wasn't as bad as she had thought, the content, but it was somewhere near.

_…in light of the recent accident, we would like to perform a competency assessment for Special Agent Renaissance Victoria Kreiss to determine her capabilities as an operating Field Agent…_

* * *

_A blooming romance for Rod and Leighton? What do you think? ^^_

_An assessment for Reine, despite her still-recovering injuries?_

_Stay tuned for the next update!_

_Thanks for reading! Please rate and review! ^^_


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